A Thief's Journey
by ScribbleWiggy
Summary: Ziris Coldwater has lived her life in Skyrim as well as she can, considering her parents were killed by vampires when she was young. Thankfully, with the help of some unlikely friends who would soon become family, Ziris is able to adjust to her new life as a thief, and deal with all the flips and flops that come with it. After all, a thief is born, not made.
1. An Offer

**This FanFiction is in no way expressed as the idea that the author owns any characters, story line or other aspect that is presented in the Bethesda game Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The author only owns her character, Ziris Coldwater, and Ziris's backstory that does not originate as part of the Thieves Guild questline in the game.**

 **Thank you.**

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The young girl scooted backwards against the stone wall to avoid being stepped on yet again by one of the big guards. Her fingers were already black and blue from being stepped on before, and she was sure they were broken, because it hurt to move them. She didn't want the same thing happening again to her other hand.

She shivered as a gust of cold wind washed over the city walls and sank into her skin and bones through the thin shirt and breeches she was wearing. The clothing couldn't really be called clothing anymore; it was mostly just rags, but it was something.

Someone started yelling nearby, beyond the wall of the city marketplace, near the orphanage. The girl hoped that it was a guard catching a thief. She knew the city near where she and her parents had lived, the one she was in now, was crawling with thieves. They had tried to steal from her parents' farm once. Papa had nearly chopped off the thief's hand when he'd found him, but after a harsh scolding had let him go instead. The girl hadn't understood how so young a boy could already be a thief, but she knew why now.

Maybe his parents had been killed by vampires, too, and he was just as alone as her.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them so that she could conserve as much of her warmth as possible. She was hungry, and thirsty, and she very much wished she had enough gold to purchase a room for the night in the city's inn.

It was the inn she was huddled against, trying and failing to get out of the worst of the cold winter wind.

Her parents had been killed only two weeks ago. Since then, the girl had made her way from their ruined farm, destroyed by the vampires, to the city of Riften, where she had thought she might find help with the city guards, or the Jarl. She hasn't expected to be turned away at the door of Mistveil Keep, chased off by a guard who called her a 'dirty guttersnipe'.

"Go back to the orphanage, where you belong," he had growled at her.

If there was one place she refused to go, it was Honorhall Orphanage. She'd heard stories about the vile place, and how the old woman in charge, who seemed to refuse to die, was the worst person to have ever walked the earth.

She'd heard that from one of the orphans themselves, who warned her that she was better off on the streets than stuck in the orphanage with Grelod the Kind.

She had taken the boy's advice, and darted away from the orphanage as quickly as she could.

And so, here she was, two weeks out from her parents' slaughter and the burning of her home, and she was very close to freezing to death, if she didn't starve first.

Thankfully, it has rained several times, and so she didn't want for water too badly. A barrel behind the inn had filled up, and she went there to drink. She had gone there earlier, and had found it empty, however.

She no longer had water, and she didn't know where her next end of bread would come from. So, she was sitting in the shadows of the inn, waiting for the Divines to gift her with something, anything.

She didn't have much hope, however. The Gods hadn't been very kind to her as of late.

She buried her head in her arms and struggled to hold back a sob. She had yet to cry over her parents, and she didn't want to give in then. The last thing she needed was to be crying, and add to her weak appearance. Instead, she listened to the whispers that seemed to come from the shadows she sat in, hiding her from everyone else. They comforted her, murmuring that everything would be all right. She just needed to keep her eyes open.

The shouting had stopped, and she lifted her head when she heard boots on the ground coming towards her. A guard stalked past where she sat in the shadows, and she turned in the direction he had come from, considering the shadows' advice.

A disgruntled Nord was grumbling to himself as he leaned down over his marketplace stand, and the girl blinked when she saw the sparkling golden necklace that he was dropping into his pocket. She didn't know what the dispute between himself and the guard had been about, but she knew that the necklace the Nord was holding had to be priceless. She could buy so many nights at the inn with the gold she made from that.

Already, she was spinning a tale in her mind: "It's all I have left of my mother, but I know she wouldn't want me to starve. Please, buy it from me."

She hated the idea of stealing it, but the Nord was being so careless. The chain was dangling out of his pocket, and she could easily wrap her fingers around it, and just… take it. And she was so hungry and cold…

She could probably even buy some new clothing with it, if she really wanted too…

"Take it, child," her friend the shadow murmured. "It is your time."

Sighing, she made her decision. She saw no other choice. It was steal, or die.

She struggled to her feet, using her uninjured hand against the wall to help her, and then she walked over to where the Nord stood at the stand, talking to one of the few unlucky shoppers who was still out as the sun began to set.

"This? Very special, and a great price," he said, holding up a sparkling ring.

The shopper didn't seem too enthused, and he kept glancing over his shoulder, as though he wanted to leave. The Nord had focused all his attention on trying to make a sale, and he didn't even look over as the girl approached the stand.

She licked her chapped lips, and glanced between the shopper and the Nord. Both were focused on something other than her. She had a chance.

Slowly, carefully, she crept behind a set of boxes near the stand that would keep her hidden, but bring her close enough to the Nord to reach for the chain. Which was what she did, gingerly. She felt the gold touch her fingertips, and she hooked her pointer finger through the chain. Gently, she lifted her arm to withdraw the necklace from the Nord's pocket, and she was certain she was about to take it, when a hand clamped down on her wrist.

She let out a frustrated and frightened gasp, and tried to pull away from the vice-like grip, but it held fast.

"How dare you try to steal from this man?" a cold voice asked her.

She glanced up and found herself staring into eyes as dark and gray as a storm. They were set over a pointed nose, and a scowl. His entire face was framed by dark hair, and a hood was pulled up over his head.

She scowled right back at him, and tried to free herself from the dark man's grip again. Her second attempt failed as well, and she gave up, seeing no way out for herself, and wondering why the shadows had lied to her.

The man turned to the Nord, who seemed astonished that he had almost been stolen from, and hadn't noticed.

"I'll take her to the guards, if you like," the man who had caught her said.

"No!" the girl exclaimed, trying to escape for a third time. The guards would put her in jail, or worse, send her to the orphanage. She had known she shouldn't try to steal the necklace. She was an idiot. Maybe she deserved to spend a few nights in jail. At least it would be warmer, and she would have food.

Actually… jail wasn't sounding so bad after all.

"Yes, do so, please," the Nord said to the man who held her wrist. "Ask that they take her fingers, or something similar." He hurriedly pulled the necklace out of his pocket and slid it over his head, all the while glaring down at the girl. "It would be much appreciated."

"I'll do that," the hooded man promised, and then he yanked the girl to her feet. "Come on, then, you guttersnipe."

The second time in a week she was being called that, and it didn't feel any better the second time.

She let the hooded man drag her out of the Riften Marketplace, and she expected him to pull her towards Mistveil Keep. Instead, he took a different route, and dragged her towards the Temple of Mara instead.

The girl was very confused. Where was he taking her, if not to Mistveil Keep?

They passed under an archway beneath the Temple, and into the graveyard on the other side of the stone building. There, they stopped in front of an unmarked tomb, just beyond the forgotten statue of Talos. The man then turned to face her, and finally let her wrist go.

"I apologize for interrupting your steal," he said. "I decided that I'd rather catch you myself, than risk a guard doing so."

The girl blinked at him in confusion, and rubbed at the wrist he had been holding. "Wh-what do you want from me?" she whispered.

The hooded man gazed at her. "Your inborn talent," he said. "I know a thief when I see one."

"I'm not -"

"Not yet," he answered, "but I also know an orphan, someone who has nowhere to go, when I see one." He tilted his head. "Would you like to have somewhere to go, little raven?"

The girl merely frowned at him. "But I'm not a thief." _Even though the shadows tell me differently_.

"Anyone can be a thief, if trained in the right way," the man told her. "And, luckily for you, I found you, and therefore, I'll be the one to train you."

The girl wasn't sure what to say. She had met this man less than five minutes prior, still hadn't exchanged names with him, and yet he was offering to train her as a thief, and give her a home? Why?

"Why are you -?"

"Trying to help you?" the man guessed before she could finish. The girl nodded, and the man crossed his arms. "I figured that it was time for me to do my good deed for the month. Take it or leave it, little raven."

Take it or leave it. So this was it, then. This was the Divines, or maybe even the shadows, reaching out to her, offering a strange form of salvation in the appearance of thievery and a dark man in a hood. She could take it, or leave it, just like he said.

It wasn't like she had much choice, did she? It was this or die, after all.

"Tell me your name," she said.

The man actually seemed to smile in response to this, and the girl thought he would be a lot handsomer if he smiled more often than he frowned.

"Mercer Frey, second-in-command of the Thieves Guild," he said. "And what's your name, little raven?"

"I'm Ziris Coldwater." She offered Mercer her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Mercer returned her proffered hand with one of his own, and they shook. "Indeed."

With introductions out of the way, Ziris allowed Mercer to lead her into the tomb, and she watched in amazement as he pushed a button on the casket inside. The casket slid away, revealing a hidden entrance, and Mercer looked at her.

"Impressed?"

"I've never seen such magic," she responded, and Mercer let out a bark of laughter.

"Not magic, little raven," he said, starting down the stairs and putting a hand on the pull chain that was hanging from the wall near a covered drain of sorts. "Just a simple mechanism."

Ziris joined him at the foot of the stairs, and Mercer pulled the chain. The casket moved back into place, shrouding them in darkness, and Mercer leaned down and pulled the cover out of the way of the drain.

"There's a ladder," he said to Ziris. "Watch your footing."

She gingerly poked a foot into the drain he had opened, and found a ladder waiting for her. She lowered her whole body into the drain and started down the ladder, one rung at a time. Mercer followed her after moving the cover back into place.

As they descended the ladder, a strange scent filled Ziris's nose, and she sniffed in disgust. "What is that?" she asked Mercer.

" _That_ is the smell of your new home, little raven," he replied.

Ziris put a foot down for another ring, but found open space instead. When she looked down, she also found light waiting for her.

Warily, she dropped down from the ladder, and ended up on her hands and knees on a hard, stone floor. Her injured hand screamed in pain, but she shook it off, not wanting to see weak. Grunting, she struggled back to her feet, and turned around to take in her new surroundings.

The young girl's eyes widened as she took in the large, dome ceilinged stone room she'd just fallen into. All around the edges of the circular room was a stone pathway, that had several hallways attached to it leading into the stone walls. The pathways all met in a large circle in the center of the room, over a pool of water. Steady streams filtered down from above, sounding thunderous as they hit the larger pool.

The room was filled with others, thieves. They all wore brown leather armor, like the kind the boy who had tried to steal from her parents' farm had been wearing. Some were seated on the beds that lined the stone pathway. Others were shooting at wooden dummies set up nearby. A white-blonde haired woman was cooking over the fire pit a few feet away from where Ziris stood.

Ziris couldn't believe it. The place already felt like home, and she had been there for two minutes.

Mercer stepped up beside her. "Welcome to the cistern," he said to her.

"It's amazing," she said, looking around in awe once more.

"Mercer." The white-blonde haired woman had turned away from her cooking and was now facing them. Her arms were crossed, and she studied Ziris with a scrutinizing eye. "What is this?" she asked.

"This is Ziris," Mercer answered. "Our newest recruit. Ziris, this is Vex."

Vex, Ziris saw, couldn't have been much older that Ziris herself. She was incredibly young, yet she looked as though she knew much more than Ziris ever would. Ziris placed her age as only seventeen or eighteen years, if that.

"Our new recruit?" Vex didn't looked happy. "I thought you, Gallus and Karliah went on that secret heist Gallus has been planning? You come back with a 'new recruit' instead of loot?" The white-blonde frowned even deeper. "Where _are_ Gallus and Karliah?"

Ziris glanced up at Mercer. A strange expression had crept onto his face, and he lowered his gaze to the floor.

"That's something the whole Guild should hear," he said quietly.

Ziris turned back to Vex, only to find that her eyes had gone wide. "Why? What's happened?" she asked.

"Would you get everyone together?" Mercer queried, looking up. "I'll explain when we're all here."

Vex glanced once more at Ziris, and then she turned and walked off towards the closest group of thieves, who were already looking towards Ziris and Mercer in interest.

"Mercer, who -?"

"You'll find out shortly, little raven," he answered without looking down at her. "Come with me."

Ziris didn't argue, and followed him across one of the pathways that arched over the water to the center of the room. There, he stood, and crossed his arms. Ziris thought he looked sad, and she wondered why, especially when he'd seemed content enough before. Who could Gallus and Karliah be, and where were they? Why did the thought of them make Mercer sad?

She supposed she'd just have to listen to what Mercer had to say to the whole Guild, and find out then.

The first group of thieves that Vex had gone to approached them. There were three thieves, all male. One was a Breton, already balding, and two Bosmer, one who had a bow on his back. They all stopped when they reached the two of them, and Ziris backed away when the Breton crouched down in front of her.

"Where'd you find this one, Mercer?" the Breton inquired, grinning at her.

"Ah, leave her alone, Delvin," one of the Bosmer said, swatting at the back of the Breton's head.

"What's your name, little lass?" the Bosmer with the bow asked her.

Ziris glanced up at Mercer, who nodded towards the Bosmer who'd asked her the question. Ziris turned back to him, and nervously responded, "Ziris. What's yours?"

The Bosmer exchanged amused glances, and the one with the bow gestured to the other. "This is Fimos, and I'm Niruin. Welcome to the Thieves Guild, Ziris."

"And I'm Delvin," the Breton said, straightening up at last. "Apologies for scaring you, love. Not everyday we get a new recruit, though. I was a bit curious."

"It's all right," Ziris said, although she did take a step closer to Mercer, who was lowering his hood. He glanced down at her, and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

 _So attached already._

More thieves were crossing over to them, and Ziris was introduced to a Nord who called himself Molgrom, and another Breton who referred to herself as Lyslin. Lyslin was older than Vex by quite a bit, and she and Delvin seemed very friendly with one another. Ziris wrinkled her nose when the two exchanged a kiss, and Niruin laughed at her.

There were at least fifteen thieves that gathered around Mercer before Vex finally joined them, and Mercer looked around at all of them before sighing, and turning his gaze to the ground.

"What are we here for, Mercer?" asked a Nord that Ziris hadn't learned the name of.

"Where are Gallus and Karliah?" another queried.

"Thieves Guild, I return to you with… upsetting news," Mercer began.

Immediately, worried murmurs broke out amongst the gathered thieves, and Delvin gestured for them all to quiet down before he looked at Mercer. "What kind of news?" he asked him.

"As you all know," Mercer said after a moment of silence, "Gallus, Karliah and I traveled to one of the Nordic ruins to retrieve something that Gallus has been planning on taking for a long time. All was going according to plan, at first."

He waited for someone to interrupt him, but no one did. They were all silent, and staring at him.

"I arrived at the ruin after Gallus did. He was waiting for me, in the shadows. When I approached, he slid out of the shadows to greet me and…" Mercer let out a breath. "She killed him. Karliah killed Gallus. She shot an arrow into his throat and then another into my chest. I'm lucky to be alive; the arrow was poisoned, but it was a paralysis poison. It left me worthless while Karliah dragged Gallus's body to the ruin and dumped it in."

Almost at once, a wave of outrage erupted from the gathered thieves. There was yelling, and cursing of Karliah's name. Amidst all the madness, however, Mercer didn't miss the odd look that Lyslin was giving him, and he turned his eyes away from her before they could meet gazes.

"I wanted to kill her, but she ran off and disappeared into the damn shadows before my paralysis wore off," he continued when the outrage had quieted down a bit.

"We have to find her!" someone exclaimed.

"She must pay for what she's done!" another agreed.

Mercer was nodding. "I know how you all feel, and I feel similarly. We will do all we can to find Karliah before she can get far, but it is going to be difficult." He frowned. "But right here, right now, Karliah is banned from the Thieves Guild. If you see her anywhere near Riften, or the cistern, you will be held responsible for her. Is that understood?"

No one argued against him. Ziris was impressed.

"Mercer, this means you're in charge," Lyslin stated, which caused more murmuring to arise from the crowd.

Mercer sighed, and crossed his arms. "I suppose -"

"Wait, what if someone else wants to be Guild Master?" one of the thieves Ziris didn't know the name of asked.

Mercer seemed taken aback by the inquiry, and he frowned a bit. "Is that how you feel, J'saad?" he asked the Khajiit that had spoken.

"Not me," the cat responded, "but perhaps someone else…?" He looked around at the other thieves, but no one spoke up.

The Khajiit seemed to change his mind, and he backed down entirely. Mercer glanced around at the rest of the gathered thieves.

"Is anyone opposed to the rules of the Guild being followed?" he asked, a small hint of sarcasm in his tone. No one said anything, and Mercer uncrossed his arms. "Very well. As Gallus's second-in-command, I will take on the role of Guild Master. For my own second -"

He was cut off as a door nearby slammed, making Ziris jump.

"Gallus! Gallus! You won't believe what I took!" A young voice, male, reached the gathered group of thieves, who parted down the middle as a redheaded boy, no older than ten winters, entered the fold. "What're we all gathered here for?" he asked no one in particular. He looked at Mercer, and grinned. "Hello, Mercer. Gallus said you'd be back today. I wanted to show him what I stole." He glanced around at the others again. "Where is he?"

"Brynjolf…" Mercer exhaled and stepped towards him. He rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, who frowned at him in response. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but… Gallus is dead."

Brynjolf's green eyes went wide, and he took a step backwards away from Mercer, shaking his head. "No, he can't be," he said under his breath. "You're lying."

"Bryn," Delvin started, reaching towards him. Brynjolf shook his head roughly again, tears rising to his eyes.

"No!" He turned and pushed his way out of the group of thieves and ran across the cistern to one of the beds, which he threw himself on top of and didn't move.

Ziris blinked at the boy, and then she glanced up at Mercer. The thief was watching Brynjolf with a strange look on his face. He shook his head after a moment, however, and addressed the whole Guild.

"I'll be deciding on my second by tomorrow." He gestured to Ziris. "And for anyone who didn't meet her, this is Ziris Coldwater, our newest recruit. Be nice to her, please. She has a lot of potential."

Ziris lifted a hand in greeting, although she was worried about Brynjolf. His reaction to the news of Gallus's death had been the most violent, and she felt like he needed to be spoken to about it.

Still, she had to see what Mercer wanted her to do, first.

"I promise, we will find Karliah, and bring her to justice," Mercer said to everyone. "And I promise that nothing will be changing around here, so long as I'm Guild Master. The Guild will survive."

Quiet agreements came back to him from the gathered thieves, and then they began to walk off, breaking apart the meeting. Mercer watched them all go, and then he looked down at Ziris. "I'll have our armorer get started on a set for you. Why don't you take a look around, and talk to a few of the others?"

Ziris nodded, and Mercer turned away from her and headed towards a wooden desk near one of the hallways she'd noticed before. Ziris turned and looked around. The thieves had all gone different directions, although most had gone to their beds and were sitting on the edges of them, looking down at the floor. She doubted any of them wanted to be friendly with her just then.

Instead of going to one of them, Ziris headed for the bed where Brynjolf had collapsed, and stopped at the foot of it. The redheaded Nord had buried his head under his pillow, and he muttered out a curse when Ziris announced her presence.

"I'm sorry about Gallus," she said to him.

"Why?" Brynjolf asked defensively, his voice muffled. "You didn't even know him."

"I just know what it's like to lose someone you care about," Ziris replied. "He was your mentor or something, right?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Brynjolf lifted the pillow off of his head and glanced at her. "He brought me into the Guild, and taught me what I know, yeah," he said to her.

"So, he was close to you," Ziris concluded, "and I'm sorry he's gone now."

Brynjolf frowned, and sat up. "Who are you, anyway?" he asked her.

"My name is Ziris," she responded. "Mercer found me earlier, in Riften." She tilted her head at him. "You're so familiar to me."

"I think I know why," Brynjolf said, sighing. "Your father almost cut my hand off a few months ago."

Ziris's eyes widened. "So you're the thief!" she exclaimed. _I knew that I knew him_.

Brynjolf nodded. "My first solo trip, and I almost lost my hand," he said, smiling a bit. "Gallus wasn't happy, but he laughed about it when he thought I wasn't looking." Brynjolf lost his grin, and glanced at Ziris. "So… you're a new recruit, then?"

"I guess so," Ziris answered. Her stomach grumbled loudly, and she clasped a hand down over it. She glanced at Brynjolf, embarrassed, but found the young thief chuckling.

"Come on," he said, climbing off of his bed. "Let's find you something to eat."

Ziris followed him away from the bed and towards the kitchen-like area near the ladder she and Mercer had climbed down. As they went, Brynjolf pointed out thieves to her, and told her what they were good at.

"Delvin's our master sneak, and Niruin is a wizard with a bow," he said to her. "Vex is honing her lock picking with help from Lyslin."

"Are Lyslin and Delvin…?"

"Hah, no," Brynjolf said. "They just like to make the rest of us uncomfortable." He gestured towards the wooden table, and Ziris sat down on one of the benches while Brynjolf went to the fire pit.

"Looks like someone already cooked up something," he said to Ziris.

"Vex was cooking when Mercer and I came down," Ziris replied, watching Brynjolf reach for a ladle to spoon some of the stew into a bowl. "Do you want me to -?"

"No," Brynjolf said, turning around and facing her, two bowls filled already. "I got it."

Ziris blinked at him as Brynjolf set one of the bowls down in front of her, and then sat down across from her with his own bowl in hand. He reached up and into the wooden cabinet nearby, and handed her one of the spoons he pulled out of it.

"Thieves have a lot of talents," Ziris said, which only earned a small smile from Brynjolf.

They sat and ate in silence for a few minutes. Brynjolf watched in surprise as Ziris swallowed down most of her stew in that period of time, and then, glancing at him first to make sure it was okay, went to get more.

When she came back, Brynjolf decided to ask the question that had been bothering him.

"Why were you in Riften by yourself?" he queried. "I wouldn't think that a farmer's daughter like you would be found by a Thieves Guild member, and recruited."

He watched Ziris's expression go dark, and she turned her eyes downwards. Without looking up at him, she said, "My parents were killed by a group of vampires that attacked our farm."

Brynjolf's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly. "I didn't have any idea."

"It's all right," Ziris said, a hand darting up and wiping across her eyes. "Nothing could have stopped it." She finally looked up at him again. "I was out in the field when it happened, and I saw our house burn to the ground. When I went to see what had happened, after I was sure the vampires were gone, I found that my parents were gone, too." She grimaced a bit at the memory. "Everything was. I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I came to Riften. I was living on the street until Mercer found me trying to steal, earlier."

"Have you stolen before?" Brynjolf asked, and Ziris shook her head.

"The idea usually makes me sick." She managed a weak grin. "Guess I'll have to get over that now, though, won't I?"

"Guess so," Brynjolf agreed. He watched her for a moment, and saw that her appetite must have faded, because she didn't eat anymore of her stew.

After they had been quiet for a few minutes, Brynjolf reached into one of the many pouches on his armor and retrieved the item he'd stolen, and had wanted to show Gallus. The thought of his mentor made his heart ache, but he knew that there was no reason to dwell. Gallus was dead.

"Here," Brynjolf said, reaching across the table towards Ziris, and holding out his palm. She glanced at it, and found a beautiful silver ring embossed with an emerald sitting on his hand. Ziris lifted her eyes back to Brynjolf, and he grinned. "I want you to have it."

"But -"

"It's nothing important, just part of practice runs that Gallus and Delvin send me on," Brynjolf interrupted, knowing that she was going to ask if it needed to go towards the Guild's funding. "Take it."

Ziris seemed hesitant, but she reached out and took it all the same. She tried to slid it onto all of her fingers, but it was too big.

"Oh well," Brynjolf said, reaching into another one of his pockets. He withdrew a plain silver chain, and took the ring back from her. Within a few seconds, he had slid the ring onto the chain, and handed the makeshift necklace back to her. "Here. Now it won't get in the way when you're picking locks."

Ziris slid the chain over her head, and glanced down. The ring sparkled in the light of the torches on the cistern walls, and she grinned to herself before shyly looking up at Brynjolf. "Thank you."

He nodded, and returned his attention to his stew. Ziris couldn't help but continue to smile as she went to finish her second helping. Being a thief couldn't be that bad, right? And Brynjolf was already looking like he could be a good friend.

Things were suddenly appearing to be a lot brighter than they were before she'd wrapped her fingers around the golden chain of the shopkeeper's necklace.

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 **And so it begins.**


	2. Adjusting

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

* * *

 **Also, hey, what's up? Are we all ready for this exciting tale of Ziris Coldwater and her adventures with the Thieves Guild? I know I am, but I wrote it, so like... I know what's going to happen.**

 **Let's talk to reviewers, shall we?**

 **WilSquare: I love getting long reviews right off the bat! It's always a good sign, and then you actually read through it and you feel ever better because it actually _was_ good. You're commentary on the first chapter was awesome. Feel free to keep doing it for every chapter, friend. I like hearing from my readers. **

**Okay, now we can keep going.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Adjusting**

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"All right," Mercer said, backing away from Ziris a few paces, and holding up his wooden practice weapons. "Once more."

Ziris let out a breath, and flexed her hands around the leather hilts of her own dagger and sword, and then she darted towards Mercer, wooden blades out.

The Guild Master easily stepped out of her way, but left a foot where he was, so that Ziris would trip over it. She let out a yelp as she stumbled to the stone floor of the cistern's practice room. Her knee hit the stone pretty hard, and she groaned to herself and rolled over onto her back.

Mercer stalked over to where she lay, and leaned over her. "What did I tell you before?" he asked dryly.

"That I'm not supposed to rush," Ziris grumbled back.

"Exactly." Mercer stepped away from her, and Ziris scrambled up to her feet, inhaling. Her knee was hurting something awful, and she was pretty sure she had enough bruises from Mercer's wooden weapons to last her a lifetime.

Still, she couldn't give up yet. She needed to perfect the move Mercer had taught her.

"Again," the Guild Master said, backing away even more. "And this time, think."

Ziris did think. She watched Mercer for a moment, studied his stance. His legs were spread apart, and he had both of his weapons held out to the sides, leaving his mid-region exposed. If she could get close enough, she'd have him. That was the problem, though. How was she supposed to get near him?

Instead of rushing straight at him this time, Ziris took a zigzagging path instead. Mercer seemed to be caught off guard by that, because he didn't move out of her way this time. Ziris was able to clash one of her weapons against his, while she used the other to get him in the belly.

Mercer glanced down at her, and Ziris blinked up at him in response.

"Got you," she said, and backed away.

Mercer grinned. "Very good, little raven," he told her. Ziris beamed under the praise.

She'd been with the Guild for almost a month. Mercer had given every spare moment of his time to her, teaching her how to fight with two blades, and how to pickpocket with the best of them. As for her lock picking training, he'd handed her over to Lyslin, who was even better than Brynjolf had told her.

The only thing Ziris had yet to learn was how to sneak around in the shadows, which was, she imagined, the most important part of being a thief. She was curious as to why her mentor hadn't tried to teach her anything just, but she also didn't want to ask him why. Mercer knew what he was doing, she reminded herself. He was the Guild Master.

Mercer was also a good teacher. He was patient with her, and taught by example, which Ziris found to be the easiest way to learn. He let her practice new moves as much she wanted on him, until she thought she had them perfect. He rarely praised her, however; it didn't seem to be his way. So the 'Very good' he'd graced her with just then was extremely welcome.

They'd been practicing for a long time, and Ziris was sweating. Her Guild armor had yet to be finished, and so she was still walking around in normal clothing. At least it was no longer rags. Her shirt was plastered to her skin by sweat, and she feared she would never be able to peel off her breeches.

"I hope that all the stamina you have now stays with you as you get older," Mercer told her, taking her wooden weapons away and putting them back in the chest he'd pulled them from. He pulled out a towel for her, and tossed it in her direction. "You'll need it, if you want to be able to fight as well."

"If I keep practicing, it will stay," Ziris responded, pressing the towel against her face to dab away the sweat.

"That's exactly right," Mercer said, pleased. "Keep practicing, and your skills will never weaken."

That was a common lesson he shared with her, and Ziris had taken it to heart. She practiced the moves he taught her on the dummies in the training room whenever she wasn't busy doing something else. Lyslin had mentioned that the locks on the practice chests were always reset, so she could practice lock picking whenever she wanted, too.

Still, what was the point of doing that when she didn't know how to sneak up to a door to lock pick it?

"Mercer," she started, lowering her towel.

"Hmm?"

"When are you going to teach me how to sneak?" Mercer glanced over at her, and Ziris bit her lip. "I just… I need to know how to do that, to be able to pick pockets and pick locks effectively, right?"

"Yes, you do," Mercer agreed, "but for right now, you need to perfect the extension skills of sneaking. When you have them down, we'll move on to the bigger picture, all right?"

Ziris frowned at him, but didn't try to argue. She nodded, and glanced around the training room, throwing the towel back to him. "I should practice my lock picking a little before supper," she said quietly.

"That's a good idea," Mercer agreed, putting the towels on top of a haybale. "Go ahead."

Ziris parted from him and went across the room to one of the chests, the one with the adept lock. She pulled a lock picking set out of her pocket, and set to work. Mercer watched, pleased, as she got the adept lock open within a minute, and she reached into the chest to receive her incentive for doing so. She pulled out the small purse of gold that was inside, and smiled to herself.

Mercer decided to leave her to it, and exited the training room. He walked down the short hall back into the cistern, and found the Guild's armorer, a big burly Nord named Daglin, waiting for him by his desk.

Mercer wasted no time in crossing the cistern to get to him, and Daglin nodded in greeting.

"I finished the armor set you asked for," he said to Mercer.

"Perfect." Mercer waited, and Daglin sighed before producing the armor from a basket he had by his feet. Mercer examined it. It seemed well-made, and to Ziris's size. She would be a true Thieves Guild member in this armor.

"Thank you," Mercer said, reaching into one of the pouches on his belt and pulling out a coin purse. "She'll be happy to finally have it."

"Mercer," Daglin began as Mercer started to pick up the armor set. "There's been rumors in the Flagon that we've lost a few of our normal clients. Is that true?"

Mercer froze, and glanced at the Nord. "Is it your business?" he retorted sharply.

"Yes," Daglin responded shortly. "It is. You pay us to set up shop in the Flagon, but if there's no money being made, then there's no point in us staying around."

Mercer glanced around the cistern to make sure they weren't attracting attention, and then he leaned across the desk towards Daglin. "It was only one client," he growled under his breath. "Nothing to start a panic about. Understood?"

Daglin didn't seem convinced, but he said nothing more. Instead, he moved away from the desk and headed across the cistern towards the door that led into the Ragged Flagon. Mercer watched him go through narrowed eyes, and then looked towards the hall that led to the training room. Ziris was coming out of it, yawning. He watched as she made her way towards the bed she had been given, and sat down on the edge of it, pulling a necklace out from under her shirt.

Mercer exhaled, already feeling calmer than he had been. He caught Lyslin's eye from where she was sitting on the edge of the stone walkway, and gestured for her to come to the desk.

The woman rose and walked over to him. Mercer passed her Ziris's armor.

"Hide this in one of the training chests," he told her, "and have Ziris practice lock picking on it tomorrow. Spread the word around so no one else gets to it first."

Lyslin smiled at him. "Inserting a lesson into a gift? You're too sweet, Master Frey."

Mercer rolled his eyes. The older woman winked at him and headed off in the direction of the training room. Mercer returned his attention to Ziris, and saw that was she looking around the cistern, as though trying to spot somebody. Mercer didn't doubt it was Brynjolf she was looking for. The two young thieves, separated by just a year in age, had become fast friends. If Mercer wasn't available, but Ziris felt like she wanted a live sparring partner, she went to Brynjolf. The footpad received the least amount of out-of-Riften jobs, and he was available to her more often than not.

Mercer wished that he had more time to give to Ziris. She was a quick learner, but she wouldn't hone the skills he was teaching her any faster than a normal thief if he didn't train with her everyday.

He had too many other responsibilities, however.

The red haired lad walked into the cistern, and Mercer saw Ziris's eyes light up, even from the distance. She stood up and hurried across the cistern to Brynjolf, who grinned when he spotted her, and slung an arm around Ziris's neck in a friendly manner.

"Where'd you go today?" Ziris asked him, her voice easily carrying across the cistern to where Mercer stood behind his desk.

"Just to the Marketplace," Brynjolf replied, and he reached into a pouch on his armor's belt. "I got this, though."

"Ooh!" Ziris exclaimed, grabbing for it.

Brynjolf held it up and away from her however, and shook his head. "This one goes to the Guild, Ziris. Sorry."

Ziris stopped trying to grab whatever it was, and she grinned at him. "That's fine. I don't want it. It's very pretty, though."

Brynjolf parted from her and jogged across the cistern to the desk. Mercer crossed his arms and watched as Brynjolf set down a silver amulet with four blue sapphires embedded to it. The young thief then looked at Mercer, smiling.

"I got it," he said.

"I see that," Mercer agreed. He reached into his desk and pulled out a coin purse. "There you are."

Brynjolf nodded, and started back towards where Ziris waited near the door to the Flagon. Mercer, however, had more business with him.

"Brynjolf, hold on a moment," he said. Brynjolf stopped, and turned around to face the desk again. "I've been watching you for the past month, and I appreciate you sparing with Ziris when I am unable too."

Brynjolf shrugged. "You're welcome. I know you're busy, and that she needs to learn."

"Still, I wanted to thank you, and offer you an incentive for doing so without being asked," Mercer continued. Brynjolf tilted his head, and Mercer handed him one of the many sheets of paper on his desk. Brynjolf read it over, his eyes widening considerably as he did so. He looked up from the parchment.

"Are you giving me this job?" he asked.

Mercer nodded. "If you want it, of course. I know it isn't that exciting, just a small heist on Whiterun's marketplace, but the majority of what you steal, you can keep. Our client just wants one item in particular." Mercer watched Brynjolf's expression change to a more level one. "Think you can do it?"

"Of course," Brynjolf responded, sliding the parchment away into one of his pouches. "I'll leave tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good," Mercer agreed. "Get some rest, then."

Brynjolf nodded, and turned away from Mercer's desk. Ziris gave him a look when he joined her again.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"I get to go to Whiterun on a job," Brynjolf answered, holding the door to the Flagon open for her.

Ziris blinked at him in amazement. "Really? That's great!" She then sighed. "I wish I could go with you."

Brynjolf glanced down at her, and saw her expression. He grinned, and put an arm around her. "Soon enough," he said to her. "You'll be better than me before you know it, and _I'll_ be the one wishing I could go on jobs with _you_."

That seemed to make Ziris feel better, and she gave him a grateful look. She then parted from him to sit at one of the tables in the Flagon. Brynjolf went to the bar to retrieve some food for them.

Vekel the Man, as he was called, although Ziris doubted he was much older than twenty years, gave Brynjolf a nod.

"What can I get you today, young Brynjolf?" he asked.

"You're not much older than me, Vekel," Brynjolf replied disdainfully.

Vekel put a finger to his lips and grinned. "What would you like?"

"Whatever's hot," Brynjolf answered with a shake of his head.

Vekel winked, and turned around to retrieve the food he'd had over the fire pit. He turned back to Brynjolf with two wooden plates full of fried potatoes and a rabbit leg.

"How did you kill a rabbit?" Brynjolf asked him, taking the plates.

"One of my many talents, Bryn," Vekel answered, and turned away again, snatching the gold Brynjolf had dropped on the counter for him.

Brynjolf sighed to himself, and carried the dinner over to the table where Ziris had sat down. He set down the plates, and Ziris started to pass him some gold, to pay him back for her supper. Brynjolf shook his head. "Keep it."

"Are you sure?" Ziris asked him.

"Yeah," Brynjolf answered, grinning at her. "I'm about to get rich off a Whiterun heist."

Ziris snorted, but took her gold back all the same. "Whatever you say, Brynjolf the Great Thief."

Brynjolf glanced up from his food at her comment, and watched Ziris sniff at one of the fried potatoes before putting it into her mouth. She met his gaze. "What?" she asked.

"Are you… resentful?"

"You don't even know what resentful means," Ziris responded, smirking.

"I bet you don't, either," Brynjolf retorted. The girl opened her mouth to shoot something back, but realized that she _didn't_ know what resentful meant, and she couldn't say anything. Brynjolf lifted an eyebrow. "You know what I mean, anyway. Are you mad that I'm more experienced than you?"

"Well… when you put it that way…"

"Ziris, you've been here for a month," Brynjolf said. "I know it seems like ages, but I went through the exact same thing you did. Give yourself some time to perfect your skills. It'll be worth it."

Ziris rolled her eyes, and then she remembered something she'd wanted to share with him. She glanced over her shoulder, and then leaned towards him. "You want to hear something I heard?"

"Always," Brynjolf replied, picking up a fried potato.

"Apparently we lost one of our clients," Ziris told him. "I heard Mercer talking about it with Molgrom."

Mercer had chosen Molgrom to be his second-in-command.

Brynjolf looked up from his meal, the fried potato halfway to his mouth. "When did you hear that?"

"Earlier this afternoon," Ziris answered, pleased she knew something that Brynjolf didn't. "Mercer thinks that clients are going to start leaving, now that Gallus isn't around to keep them with us."

Brynjolf had explained to Ziris that part of the reason Gallus had been a great Guild Master was because of all the connections he had with important people all over Skyrim. He understood, then, why those clients would leave the Guild, since the connection through Gallus no longer existed.

Mercer's fears weren't unwarranted.

"I hate to think what that'll do to the Guild," Brynjolf murmured, almost to himself.

Ziris frowned, not understanding. "Why? We don't just have the clients Gallus had, right? There's others."

"Well, sure, there's the Black-Briar family. They've been with the Guild since even before Gallus, but… that's just one." Brynjolf sighed to himself. "This could be really bad."

Ziris was getting more and more worried. She hadn't thought it was that big of a deal when she'd heard Mercer and Molgrom discussing it, but apparently it was.

She hoped that Mercer would be able to get things under control before too many clients left. Not having any would mean the Guild wouldn't have footing in some of Skyrim's holds, and that wouldn't be good. They needed to be feared - it was what brought in gold without stealing.

Brynjolf had explained all of this to her and more. Being Gallus's protégée had given him the ability of having an inside look of the Guild. He knew more that a lot of the other thieves did, and he'd been sharing what he knew with Ziris since she'd arrived. She was grateful for the information, but she was careful to keep her knowledge to herself. She didn't know if Mercer would get angry that she knew so much after only a month of being in the Guild.

Maybe it was common knowledge that the clients kept the Guild upright, and it wasn't just the work of the thieves on its own. Maybe Ziris had nothing to worry about in knowing it. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

She glanced down at her supper, suddenly not feeling very hungry. She knew it wouldn't be fair to Brynjolf if she didn't finish the food he had bought for her, but she didn't feel like eating. Looking across the table at Brynjolf, she saw that the redheaded boy seemed to feel similarly.

"Brynjolf?" she asked quietly, and his eyes raised from his partially eaten supper. She frowned at him, and he gave her a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry too much about it," he said. "I'm sure Mercer will get it figured out."

As soon as he finished speaking, the sounds of shouts erupted from the direction of the cistern. Ziris and Brynjolf exchanged concerned glances, and both quickly abandoned their meals in favor of going to see what was happening.

They poked their heads into the cistern, and Ziris let out a gasp when she saw what was occurring inside.

It appeared that an all out war had broken out amongst the thieves. Some had others pressed against walls, daggers to their throats. More still were fighting one another along the walkways. Ziris spotted the Khajiit thief, J'saad, with his blade to Mercer's throat, behind the Guild Master's desk.

"New management," the cat was hissing. "The Guild will do nothing but sink under your leadership, Mercer Frey!"

Ziris quickly drew the iron dagger Mercer had given her earlier on that week, and she darted across the cistern towards the feuding thieves, ignoring Brynjolf's protests. She clambered onto the desk and jumped onto the Khajiit's back with a grunt, wrapping one arm around his neck and pressing her dagger against his temple. The cat let out a yowl, attracting everyone's attention. Delvin, who'd been cornered by someone, was able to snatch the thief's blade from his hand and turn it on him. Niruin managed to pull an arrow back in his bow and aim it at the thief that was approaching him with a drawn dagger. Vex elbowed her attacker in the stomach and pulled away, drawing her dagger as she went.

Just like that, the tables had turned.

Mercer let out a breath through his nose and took a step forward towards J'saad, drawing his sword. The Khajiit squirmed against Ziris's hold, but she tightened the grip she had around his neck, and the cat let out a choking gasp.

"You have two choices," Mercer began, his voice low and dark enough to be a snarl. "Leave, or be killed."

"We're dying off anyhow!" J'saad spat. "You know it, I know it… the Guild isn't going to survive Gallus's death, and you, Mercer, are going to personally see to its extinction."

Hearing this, Ziris's grip on him loosened as she looked at Mercer in shock. The Khajiit immediately reached behind him and grabbed her by the back of her shirt and easily tossed her away. She hit the floor hard, aware of the crack that sounded as her head hit the stone. Almost at once, Mercer flew at J'saad, blade flashing in the lantern light. The cat hissed at him and ducked away, hurrying for the ladder. The thieves that had attacked rushed after him, pushing the others to the ground or narrowly avoiding a swinging blade.

A few minutes passed as the betrayers darted up the ladder and disappeared. They didn't come back.

Mercer slid his sword away and walked over to where Ziris lay. He crouched beside her, and helped her sit up, slowly.

"All right?" he asked, gazing at her, and she managed a nod, rubbing the spot where her head had hit the floor. A bump was going to form there for sure.

Mercer helped her stand and supported her weight as she took stock of the remaining thieves. Vex, Niruin and Delvin, who had rushed to the other side of the cistern and was bent over something, sobbing.

Brynjolf slid into the cistern and walked over to him, stopping after he'd reached a certain distance. He then glanced over towards where Mercer stood.

"They killed Lyslin," he said, just loud enough so his voice would carry.

Ziris let out a moan and turned so that her face was hidden in Mercer's chest. The Guild Master placed a gentle hand against the back of her head as he glanced around at the rest of the thieves that still remained. The number was… not good.

"I appreciate the loyalty you all showed just now," he said, wording his phrase carefully. "Clearly, not everyone was happy with the way things turned out. I'm sorry to say that our numbers have been, obviously, diminished."

"What do we do now?" Vex asked him, and Mercer turned his gaze down to Ziris, who lifted her head long enough to look at him. He exhaled.

"We keep going," he replied. "We're still the Thieves Guild. We'll simply have to rebuild."

At that moment, there was the sound of movement at the ladder, and Niruin quickly drew an arrow back in his bowstring. He lowered it, however, when Molgrom hopped down off of the ladder. He turned around, stared at the empty cistern for a moment, and then looked at Mercer.

"I warned you," he said solemnly, and then he made his way over to his bed and sank down onto it.

Mercer didn't respond to this. Instead, he glanced down at Ziris again, who was still gazing up at him, her eyebrows drawn.

"'Personally see to its extinction'." Mercer exhaled, and Ziris's frown grew. "What did he mean?"

"He was just trying to convince himself that what he and his followers were doing was right," Mercer answered after a moment. "That's all." He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "You didn't hesitate before jumping onto his back and pulling him away from me."

"He was going to kill you," Ziris responded, not sounding the least bit doubtful. "I couldn't let that happen."

Mercer offered her a nod, and then Ziris pulled away from him and started across the cistern towards where Brynjolf was crouched beside Delvin. She joined them on the floor, carefully avoiding looking at Lyslin's dead body, and she silently put her arms around Delvin.

She glanced at Brynjolf as she did so, and the young thief shook his head tiredly. Clearly, he felt the same as she did; he had no idea as to how the Guild would be able to survive this.

Ziris pressed her forehead against Delvin's shoulder and exhaled. They'd figure it out. After all, they were thieves. They could handle anything.

* * *

 **So, it's been said that the uprising after Gallus's death was a lot more drawn out than this, and that there were a lot more factions involved but uh...**

 **I like this way better. Sorry about that.**

 **Anyhow, leave a review if you want, tell me what I'm doing wrong, or what I'm doing right. I'd really appreciate it.**

 **Love you!**


	3. A Few Lessons

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

* * *

 **This new style of Author's Notes is something I can get behind. Get job me, for thinking it up.**

 **Talkin' to Reviewers!**

 **Manu: I'm continuing it, like you asked! Hope you like this chapter, too!**

 **NewBlood3275: I'm glad you're already thinking so highly of this story, only two chapters in! Let's see if this will stay great. I certainly hope it will.**

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 **Chapter 3: A Few Lessons**

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"Are you even listening to me?"

Ziris blinked and looked up from her lockpicking. Vex was standing over her, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Ziris had completely forgotten that she was overseeing the lesson, since the blonde thief had been so quiet the last hour or so.

"No, sorry," Ziris said. "I'd thought you left the room. What?"

"You need to act like the pick is an extension of yourself," Vex repeated after releasing a breath. "It won't do anything unless you tell it to. Tell it to open the lock, and it will."

Ziris smiled at that. "Physically, or mentally?" she asked, chuckling.

Vex frowned at her. "Do you want to learn to be a master lockpicker, or do you look forward to disappointing Mercer?" she queried.

Ziris immediately lost her grin, and she returned her gaze to her pick, which was currently lodged in the lock of the master chest in the training room. "No, of course I don't," she mumbled.

"That's not what it seems like to me," Vex responded. She dropped her arms and gestured to the lock. "Get it open. We've been in here for almost an hour, and you've already wasted two picks."

Ziris exhaled through her nose and returned her attention to the lock. She washed all other thoughts from her mind and focused entirely on the pick and the dagger she was also using. She relaxed her grip on both, and watched as they began to move seemingly all on their own, controlled by her hands and her thoughts.

Within a minute, she'd popped the lock, and retrieved the satchel of gold from inside the chest. She looked from it to Vex, and Vex nodded.

"Good. You're learning." With that, she strolled from the training room.

Ziris grinned to herself and rose, tossing the bag of gold into the air. She caught it again, and slid it into one of her belt pouches, then slipped out of the training room as well.

In the cistern, she found basically no one. All probably in the Flagon eating and drinking, or out on the meager jobs that Delvin had been in charge of scraping together since the betrayal.

The year that had passed had brought many temporary thieves into the Guild. Most of them only stayed for a week or two, not long enough for Ziris to get attached to any of them. She would have been lying if she said she was glad none of them had stayed, however. She knew that the Guild was beginning to lose more money than it was making, although she wasn't sure how. The ledger didn't match up with the amount of money that Delvin reported existed in the vault, which meant someone was messing up somewhere.

She had a feeling that someone was Mercer, but she didn't want to say anything about it. Mercer's moods had grown darker and more easily invoked as time passed. He rarely spent time with Ziris anymore, and had passed most of her training onto Vex, and Delvin when he wasn't too busy.

At least she was finally learning how to sneak, and from the best. Or so Delvin told her.

She wanted to be learning from her _mentor_ , however, and she was annoyed that she wasn't. Mercer was the best, and she wanted to learn what he knew. After all, he'd said he would be the one to teach her, hadn't he?

She needed to talk to him about it, no doubt. She just… didn't know how to approach him. With his gloomy moods, Mercer was practically unpredictable, and she didn't know when the best time to talk to him would be.

She glanced across the cistern to where Mercer was standing at his desk, bent over the ledger on top of it. She could see from his posture that he wasn't happy whatsoever, and she bit her lip.

It probably wasn't a good idea to go over and speak with him, but… maybe he needed to get away from his work for a bit? She supposed it wasn't a ridiculous notion, and she took a few steps in that direction. She hesitated, however, when she heard a low curse come from him.

She took a step backwards, then turned completely and went to her bed instead. She didn't need to deal with a furious lash-out from the Guild Master. That was the last thing she needed after she'd spent an hour crouched in front of a training chest with Vex looking over her shoulder the entire time.

She settled down on the edge of her bed, looking down at the satchel of gold she'd retrieved from the chest, and then glanced across the cistern towards Mercer's desk again. He had straightened up, and had a hand tangled in his hair, his gaze fixed on the ledger sitting before him.

Ziris inhaled and returned her gaze to the purse. So much for talking to him today.

"Hello, love."

She glanced up at Delvin's voice, and found him sauntering over with a grin on his face. She managed to return it. "Hi, Del."

"You wanna practice some sneaking?" he queried. "I don't have anything else to do at the moment, and we haven't done anything like it yet this week."

Ziris didn't _want_ to practice with Delvin, but she knew he was the best choice, if she couldn't work with Mercer himself.

So, she slid the purse under her pillow and nodded, standing up. "Where?" she asked him.

"I was thinkin' that we could just go up to the surface and see how that _natural sense_ I talked about is comin' along," Delvin replied. "You've been workin' on it, right?"

 _Natural sense_ was apparently a thief's inborn ability to spot the best places to hide while sneaking, and to know the appropriate position to be in while sneaking. Ziris hadn't had either of these things the first time they'd discussed _natural sense_ , and Delvin had told her to try sneaking whenever she could, and see if she could settle into the position.

And, yes, he did pronounce it _natural sense_ every time, probably because it was incredibly important.

Still, Ziris had to struggle to keep in an exasperated sigh. "I guess so," she said without really meaning it.

Truthfully, she hadn't done any of the things Delvin suggested, mostly because she didn't want to learn anything from him, only to have Mercer tell her something completely different when he started to teach her. Apparently, that was not going to happen, so… she might as well actually try this time around.

Delvin led the way up to the surface, and they went around to the shadowy part of the back walkways behind the Temple of Mara, and the homes on the main street of Riften. Once they had reached the darkest area, Delvin turned to face her.

"So," he began, clapping his hands together. "Show me what you've been doin'."

Ziris refrained from rolling her eyes. Without much preamble, she sank into a low crouch close to the ground, and waddled in the direction of the shadows. Delvin watched her do this with a frown on his face, and when Ziris turned to look at him, he shook his head.

"That's the way you were doin' it last time," he told her.

"Well…" Ziris fell out of her crouch and sat down in the grass. "I guess I don't have _natural sense_."

Delvin shook his head again. "Mercer didn't seem to think that when he brought you into the Guild."

"Then why isn't Mercer the one teaching me?" Ziris grumbled under her breath.

Delvin gazed at her for a moment, and then he let out a sigh and settled down in the grass beside her. He rested his arms on top of his knees, and looked at her. "So, that's what this is about, is it?" he queried.

"He _told_ me that he'd be the one to teach me," Ziris said sullenly. "But… over the past few months, it's like he's completely forgotten I exist, unless he decides that he wants to yell at me." She exhaled. "I just want to be the best, and I don't think I will be unless Mercer's the one to teach me."

"Mercer's been busy," Delvin reminded her.

"Too busy to work with me twice a week?" Ziris retorted. When Delvin gave her a look, she slumped her shoulders. "Sorry. It just makes me mad."

"And you haven't told me this why?"

Both she and Delvin looked up, and Mercer found contrasting expressions on their faces. Ziris first looked surprised, then guilty, while Delvin merely looked unconcerned, and then amused. It was a stark example of the difference in age and experience between the two of them.

Mercer crossed his arms and gestured back towards the hidden entrance with his head. Delvin nodded in understanding and rose, remaining behind to stretch languidly for a moment before heading in that direction. As he passed Mercer, he offered him a look of knowing, to which Mercer nodded back, once.

When Delvin had disappeared, Mercer returned his attention to Ziris, whose eyes had turned towards the ground.

"Ziris." She winced, and Mercer uncrossed his arms, not wanting to handle this the way she assumed he would, if what he'd heard her say was how she actually felt. "You could have talked to me."

"No," she said, and her voice was about two notches away from a yell. "I couldn't have, because you're always so frustrated, and you always look busy, and I know you probably are busy, but I can't believe that you're so busy that you can't train with me at least _once_ a week. It's ridiculous, Mercer, and honestly I feel like you don't even care what happens to me because you only talk to me when you want to yell at something other than your ledger, and I don't want to be that thing that you yell at, because I don't deserve it, and because the only thing I want right now is for you to actually be my mentor like you said you would be, and, and…"

She slowly trailed off, and glanced upwards at him. "I just want to know whether or not you're actually going to help me."

Mercer gazed at her for a moment without speaking, considering what she'd said in her small rant. He knew that he hadn't been treating her fairly, especially when he had told her that he would be the one to train her. If he was being honest, however, he hadn't realized that she'd been the one getting most of his anger as of late. He hadn't intended her to be the one to receive it, at any rate. If anything, he should have been yelling at Molgrom, because the second was continuously getting caught and arrested, and Mercer was tired of it.

He finally let out a breath. "Show me what your crouch looks like," he said, hoping he didn't sound gruff, but that she understood it was an order.

Ziris looked at him, a confused expression on her face, but after a moment, she rose from her spot on the ground, and settled into a sorry excuse for a crouch, glancing up at him. She obviously knew it was bad, if the look on her face was any indication.

Mercer crouched down beside her in a fashion of his own, one more appropriate for sneaking. "I don't know what Delvin already told you, but the key to sneaking without being seen or heard is your crouch," he said. "You need to adjust your weight so that you're light on your feet, and able to move quickly and silently."

He demonstrated this, moving past her towards a shadow near the wall of the city. Ziris watched him, her eyebrows drawn, and she struggled to mirror his own crouch, adjusting so that her weight rested mostly on the balls of her feet, and so that her rear was higher in the air.

Carefully, she moved towards where Mercer had stopped, making sure to keep her rear up and her weight forward as much as possible.

Mercer nodded approvingly when she joined him. "That's already much better, but you could move just a bit quieter if you stepped more lightly."

"But all my weight is on the balls of my feet," Ziris said. "Where do I put it if I want to step lightly?"

"That's the trick," Mercer said. "You have to learn how to switch it while you move. Watch my feet this time, and see if you can spot what I'm doing."

Ziris focused all her attention on his feet, and watched as he took a few steps forward, moving slowly to give her more time to judge and comprehend what he was doing. She saw that he first rested most of his weight on the foot still on the ground while he stepped forward with the other, before settling onto that foot and moving the first. He was switching his weight between his feet, rather than relying on both to support him while he moved.

Mercer stopped and glanced back at her. "Did you see it?"

Ziris nodded, and attempted to join him further up the wall, trying to do what he had done. She kept her left foot firmly on the ground. When she lifted her right foot to move forward, she tried to move all her weight to her left foot alone.

Instead of having it settle while she stepped forward, however, she felt completely off balance, and toppled to the side. She cursed under her breath, and sat up, shaking a few leaves out of her hair as she did so.

Mercer was smiling in amusement. "You'll need to work on your balance," he said.

Ziris blew some of her hair out of her eyes. "Any suggestions?"

Mercer nodded, and stood up. Ziris followed his lead. "Every day, you need to stand on one leg for a half hour each," he told her.

"How's that supposed to help? I'm not going to be standing up straight while sneaking," Ziris said.

"No, but think about it for a moment," Mercer replied.

Ziris did, frowning. She then sighed. "It'll build up the muscles in my legs."

"Exactly," Mercer said. "When you've mastered standing up straight, you can lower your height a bit, and keep getting lower until you're standing on one foot while crouching."

"It'll help with my fighting, too," Ziris commented after a moment. "Help me be light on my feet."

"It will," Mercer agreed.

"So… that's it?" Ziris asked him when he didn't continue. "There's no… secret?"

"Why would there be a secret?" Mercer queried, frowning a bit.

"I just always assumed that you must do something that no one else does, to make you better," Ziris answered with a shrug. "It seems like this is a crouch that every thief uses, but if that's the case, why are you better at it than the others?"

Mercer gazed at her for a moment, and Ziris stared back unflinchingly. If only she understood the gravity of what she'd just asked him.

"I suppose I just have better balance," Mercer stated.

"I guess so," Ziris agreed after a moment.

There was more silence, and both struggled to keep from frowning uncomfortably as they stood in it.

Finally, Mercer thought of something to say: "How's your lock picking coming?"

"Fine," Ziris replied with a shrug. "Today, Vex suggested that I try to think of the pick and dagger as extensions of myself, and _tell_ them what to do. I actually think it worked."

"Vex's lock picking skills are arguably better than my own," Mercer admitted. "It's no surprise that'd she's teaching you well."

"And Delvin says my pickpocketing is shameful at best," Ziris added, not wanting to seem like she was learning everything despite him not teaching her. "He says that if I were to try and pickpocket someone the way I do currently, I'd get my fingers cut off before I could even pull my hand back out."

Mercer tilted his head as he considered this. "Pickpocketing requires a steady hand, and the ability to keep a calm head," he said after a moment. "You have the first, but the latter is what gives you problems." He looked at her, slightly amused. "Am I wrong?"

"No," Ziris mumbled, digging at the grass with the toe of her boot. "Spot on, actually. My thoughts don't shut up when I'm trying to pickpocket. It's like there's three different people in my head telling me how to do it, and before I can decide on any of the options, I'm getting caught."

"That's a problem for a lot of thieves," Mercer told her. "I had that problem, too, when I first started. Can you tell me why?"

"Why we have the problem?" Mercer nodded, and Ziris shrugged. "I don't know. Because when we're doing something like that, the adrenaline kicks in?"

"Sort of," Mercer said. "Think about stealing something from a house. You have time to plan, right? You have time to reason out the way you'll get in, how you'll get to the item you plan on stealing, and how you'll get back out?"

"Sure."

"With pickpocketing, you _don't_ have time," Mercer informed her. "Sure, you can follow a target around for a few days, get a feel for what they do with their hands and how they hold themselves and what they have that you want to steal, but you can't plan how you're going to reach into their pocket."

"Sure you can," Ziris said.

"How?"

"Well…" Ziris considered it for a moment. "Most every pocket is the same, right? How hard can it be to get into the mindset you need to know that you're going to be picking one? The technique has to be similar for every pocket you reach your hand into."

"Not necessarily," Mercer told her. "If a person stands in such a way that they lean more to the side that you're trying to steal from, it's fair to say that you'll have a harder time getting into that pocket. Their body is pushing up against the clothing, making the space between pocket and thigh smaller, if it even exists."

"But if there's no way to get your hand into the pocket without them feeling you, then what's the point?" Ziris asked.

"That's what I'm trying to say," Mercer said. "You have to pick and choose when it comes to pickpocketing. You can't just go up to simply anyone and take whatever they have. You have to know who to steal from, and exactly what you're going to be stealing."

"That's what contracts are for, though," Ziris said.

"Exactly."

"But -"

"I know what you're saying," Mercer said. "You're wondering why it's so easy for some thieves to just take whatever they want, right?" Ziris nodded, and Mercer walked towards her. She frowned in confusion, which turned into a scowl when he backed away again, holding her necklace from Brynjolf between two fingers.

"That's not funny," she told him, holding out her hand to get it back.

"You didn't realize I did it, though, did you?" Mercer asked her.

"No," Ziris responded, not putting her hand down. "Give it back, please."

"Why didn't you notice?" Mercer questioned.

"Because I was distracted."

"By?"

"I don't know!" Ziris exclaimed. "Your proximity? What you've been saying?"

"Yes," Mercer said, pleased. "Exactly. While a thief's brain might be running when their going to pickpocket, they have to make sure that their target's brain is running, too."

Ziris seemed confused by this for a moment, but then her eyes lit up with understanding, and she grinned. "Fight fire with fire, essentially," she said, and Mercer nodded.

"Good," Mercer said, and then he reached out with the necklace. Ziris took it from him, and slid it back over her head, still smiling. "I think you're going to do just fine, little raven."

"And you'll…." Ziris hesitated for a moment, and then she swallowed and met his gaze. "You'll make time for me?"

"I'll do my best," Mercer replied, "but you can't always expect I'll be able to train with you. You have to be prepared to work on your own, or with someone else."

Ziris gave him a frustrated look, and Mercer offered her a shrug. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it'll have to be, sometimes. We have a lot to deal with lately, and I need to be on top of it."

Ziris let out a disappointed sigh, but she nodded nonetheless. "I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I'll train with whoever I can, now that I know the basics. That's all I really wanted."

That wasn't the truth. What she really wanted was for Mercer to help sharpen her skills like a blade, but since that apparently wasn't going to happen, she'd have to take what she could when she could and do it on her own.

And that was the way it was.

* * *

 **Also, will there always be these bottom ones?**

 **I don't know yet.**

 **Just depends on what I have to say. And today I have to say that... you guys are beautiful.**


	4. Developments

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

* * *

 **Filler chapters make my Fictions work, Fictions work, Fictions work.  
Filler chapters make my Fictions work, yes they really do!**

 **Sorry. Let's get into it.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Replies:**

 **Guest: I'm had you think so, friend.**

 **mia78: Hi! Thank you for allowing me to wake up to almost ten emails from FanFiction about your favoriting and reviewing and the like! I've missed you. How you been? Glad to see you again.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4** **:** **Developments**

* * *

Ziris exhaled and pushed open the door of the house, the weight of the ring she'd just stolen heavy in one of her belt pouches, despite the fact that the ring didn't weigh that much. She'd had a very bad feeling about going into the house when the night was so clear, but Vex had said that she needed the ring as quickly as possible. Ziris wasn't one to waste time, either, and so she'd risked it.

Apparently, that had been the wrong choice.

"Hey, you!" Ziris winced and did the wrong thing, again: she stopped moving and glanced over her shoulder. A Riften guard was coming towards her, looking like he knew exactly what she had been up to, and she had no doubt that he did.

"I can explain -" she started, but before she could get further, the guard grabbed her wrist and hauled her up right. "Hey! I wasn't doing anything!" she exclaimed as he pulled first one wrist, and then the other behind her back and held them there. He then started to push her forward towards Mistveil Keep.

"I saw you come out of that house," the guard growled. "I know you stole something. Give it up, or go to jail. Your choice."

Ziris let out a breath, but didn't respond to his accusation. She'd known that she should've waited, but had she listened to her instincts? No, of course not. She'd gone with her routine, and now she was paying for it. And, she had a feeling that she'd been ratted out, too, and probably by the person who'd wanted the ring she'd stolen.

When she'd snatched it from the strong box in the bedroom, she'd seen that it had been a golden wedding band. She imagined the person who'd wanted it back was a jilted lover or something similar, and so it was understandable that they'd want it.

So… why was she now being arrested for stealing it?

Probably because of her own stupidity, more than anything. Mercer was going to be _furious_.

The guard continued to push her towards Mistveil Keep, and there was nothing Ziris could do as he shuffled her towards the jail cells and shoved her into one. Without any remorse, he slammed the door and locked it with a key off the ring on his belt.

"Damn thieves," he muttered to himself, shaking his head at her. "When will you learn that your Guild is dead?"

"It's not dead as long as there are still thieves," Ziris retorted.

The guard shook his head again and stalked away from her cell. Ziris grabbed at the bars and watched him disappear through the door, which closed loudly behind him. Aside from her, the prison was empty.

"Damn," Ziris cursed, and then she kicked at the bars before her. "Damn!" Of all the times she could have had bad luck, it had to be the time when a guard just so happened to be watching the house she was stealing from.

She stalked back and forth in front of the cell's door, glaring at the ground and wondering how long she'd be able to last before she decided to give up the score in order to be released. There was always the uncertainty that she'd actually be allowed to go free, anyhow, and with her luck lately…

Besides all that, the Guild needed all the gold she could bring in. Whether or not this ring was going to still be paid for, she couldn't just risk giving it up in order to be let out. She needed to think of the Guild first, and how badly they needed the money from this score.

She cursed again, lowly, and sank down to the ground, crossing her legs and glaring out through the bars. She was stuck.

 _"Not stuck, nor out of luck,"_ came a familiar voice from the corner of the cell. She glanced over her shoulder at the shadow. _"You prepared for this. Remember?"_

Ziris frowned and faced forward again, trying to figure out what the shadow meant. She supposed that she could try to pick the lock on the cell, but she only had three picks, and she didn't trust herself not to break all of them in her attempts.

She was beginning to turn, to look at the wall behind her and search for a weak spot, when a door opened nearby. She immediately stood up and and grabbed at the bars, peering through them. She frowned when she didn't see anything, and then let out a gasp when Mercer suddenly appeared in front of her, out of nowhere.

"Well, well, look at what you've gotten yourself into," he started with a disappointed sneer. "How did you manage this?"

"I think I was ratted out," Ziris mumbled. "They were watching the house before I went in."

"And you didn't notice?" She drew her eyebrows together and glanced downwards, and Mercer shook his head to himself before pulling out a lockpick and getting to work on the cell. "Don't make me have to do this again," he muttered without looking up at her.

"I won't, but… it seems like everything's out to get me, lately," Ziris sighed. "I've had the worst luck."

"It has nothing to do with _luck_ ," Mercer informed her. "It's all about skill. You not realizing the house was being watched was lack of skill. You deciding to sneak into a house on a clear night like this was was lack of skill." The lock on the cell popped, and he opened the door for her. "Maybe you aren't skillful enough for breaking and entering yet."

"I'm so tired of stealing from the Marketplace, though!" Ziris exclaimed. Mercer gave her a warning look, and she clamped her mouth shut and joined him in a crouch on the floor.

"Shut up, and let's get out of here," he muttered, and then led the way back through the door.

Both were silent as they snuck out of Mistveil Keep and made their way towards the hidden entrance in the graveyard. Ziris knew that she shouldn't try to explain herself further, because Mercer didn't want to hear it, but she felt like she should defend herself.

She kept her mouth shut until they were both down the ladder into the cistern, and then she followed him to his desk. "Mercer, I'm sorry. I didn't _try_ to get caught. You can't expect me -"

"What, Ziris? I can't expect you to what?" Mercer growled, turning around to face her. "I can't expect you to retrieve an item of interest for us? I can't expect you to sneak into a house without getting caught?"

Ziris let out a breath in order to keep herself from yelling in response to his own tone, but it didn't work out. "You can't expect me to be perfect!"

Her shout rang around the cistern, and Niruin, who was sitting quietly at the table eating a bowl of stew, looked over at them, curious. Mercer turned his gaze away with a glare, which he then turned to Ziris.

"You will not speak to me like that ever again. Do you understand? I am your Guild Master." Ziris lowered her gaze to her feet, and Mercer went on: "I don't expect you to be perfect. I expect you to get the job done clean. You didn't manage to do that this time around, and I'm disappointed in you. Am I allowed to be disappointed?"

Ziris merely shook her head and reached into the pouch that held the wedding ring she had stolen from the house before the guard had caught her. Silently, she tossed it down onto the desk in front of him.

"Don't bother with the payment. Obviously, I don't deserve it."

With that, she turned and stalked away from the desk, across the cistern to her bed, where she dumped her sword belt, and then flopped down across it with a frustrated grunt.

After a few minutes, she heard the door leading to the Flagon open, and then Brynjolf strolled through. He paused when he caught sight of Mercer behind the desk, and then his eyes drifted over to where Ziris lay across her bed. He seemed to debate something with himself for a moment, and then he walked over to her.

"Something happen?" he asked, and Ziris huffed.

"I got caught sneaking out of a house. Mercer had to spring me, and neither of us are happy about it."

"Ah." Brynjolf glanced over his shoulder towards the Guild Master's desk, and then he looked down at her. "I wouldn't feel too badly. Just last week, I had to spring Vipir after he got caught sneaking _into_ a house. At least you were able to get the score."

"That's the reason I'm upset," Ziris mumbled. "Mercer doesn't even care about that. He's just pissed that I got caught at all, and that's the only thing he can focus on. It's like all he cares about is what I do wrong, and not what I do right." She buried her head under her arms. "I try so hard to impress him, but it's useless, isn't it?"

It had been a long time since she'd joined the Guild, and still it felt like she didn't know what she was doing, sometimes. She had been working extremely hard to reach the standards she thought Mercer expected from her, but every time she thought she had it, it turned out she was wrong. She wasn't sure what the problem was exactly, but she was starting to believe that Mercer just didn't like her as she had thought he did. Maybe whatever he'd seen in her had been wrong.

Brynjolf didn't respond for a moment, and when he did, it was with something she was surprised to hear: "I think he does get impressed by you, sometimes."

"What?" Ziris asked in disbelief. "No he doesn't."

"Sure he does," Brynjolf insisted. "You're the youngest thief in the Guild, but you bring in more coin than most of us combined."

"That's just because Vex and Delvin don't really do legwork anymore," Ziris said dismissively. "And you… you're busy recruiting, so you don't have time to do jobs, either." She raised her head and shook it. "Me bringing in a lot of coin isn't that impressive."

Brynjolf sighed to himself. "I should stop trying to cheer you up," he said. "You never seem to listen to my compliments."

Ziris managed a smile at that. "Maybe it's because your compliments aren't very good."

"Ziris, get over here," Mercer ordered from across the cistern.

Ziris rolled her eyes at Brynjolf.

"Now," Mercer added darkly.

She sighed to herself and slid off of her bed, then made her way over to his desk. When she reached it, she kept her gaze on the wall behind him while Mercer examined her.

After a moment, he grunted to himself. "Do you want your pay?"

"No," Ziris answered immediately.

"No?"

"I mucked up the job," she said simply. "I don't deserve it." Mercer sighed and dropped a coin purse onto the desk in front of her. Ziris didn't reach for it, nor did she look down at it. "I don't want it."

"Take the damn coin purse," Mercer growled.

"No," Ziris said. "Keep it, and pay off the guard with it when they realize I'm not in jail anymore." She finally turned her gaze to meet his. "It's put to better use that way, don't you think?"

Mercer gazed at her without speaking for a long time. Finally, however, he reached forward and took the coin purse back. "Fine," he said. "You're right."

"Is that all?" Ziris queried, and Mercer grunted by way of response. She dipped her head and walked away from his desk again, back across the cistern to where Brynjolf still stood by her bed. He frowned at her as she sat down on it, and Ziris shook her head.

"I don't know what to do about him."

"I don't think any of us do," Brynjolf agreed, his frown turning into a smile. He then let out a breath. "I wanted to ask you what you thought of Vipir."

Vipir was the most recent addition to the Guild, the first to have agreed to Brynjolf's offer in a long time. The first had been Cynric, right after the attack by the other thieves.

Cynric, a Breton, had been a jailbreaker, but a job had gotten botched and had landed him in High Rock prison for three years. After he'd been released, he'd headed for Skyrim, and Brynjolf had noticed him unlocking one of the stands in the Marketplace shortly after.

After Cynric, about three years later, had come Tonilia, a young Redguard woman who knew how to get rid of something a thief did not want in their position. Her skill was useful, as the few shopkeepers down in the Ratway had packed up and left when the majority of the thieves did. She was their fence, and their source of lockpicks and other items necessary to thieving.

After that, Brynjolf had had a long line of turn downs to his offer, although some had come, stayed a week or two, and then left. The one Ziris missed the most was a Nord woman named Veera, who'd reminded her of Lyslin. She'd been an incredible addition to the Guild for the two months she'd stayed, bringing in so many items she'd fished out of pockets that it was incredible Tonilia was able to sell them all. But, after two months, she had left, and Brynjolf's bad luck had continued until about a month ago.

He'd been in the Marketplace, looking for a mark, when he'd noticed a young Nord man creeping along after the person he himself had been searching for. He watched, curious to see what the man was going to do. Imagine his surprise when the Nord easily reached into the mark's pocket, withdrew the very item that Brynjolf was meant to be stealing, and ducked away into the shadows.

Needless to say, Brynjolf had wasted no time in finding the man and asking him if he wanted to put his pickpocketing to use, and make a bit of money off of it.

And, needless to say, the man had agreed.

"Vipir's all right," Ziris said with a shrug, glancing up at Brynjolf. "I haven't really talked to him much. Why?"

"I just wanted to know," Brynjolf responded with a shrug. "See if you'd noticed how well he was fitting in."

Ziris tilted her head, and watched as the young Nord strode through the door leading to the Flagon, pausing to speak with Niruin for a moment before he made his way up the ladder and out the secret entrance.

"I mean… he's seems fine," Ziris commented, shrugging. "He's a thief."

"I suppose," Brynjolf agreed with a sigh.

"Are you feeling downtrodden because you haven't found anyone else worth your time?" Ziris inquired, and he offered a shrug.

"I suppose. It's mostly that I'm tired of getting turned down." Brynjolf glanced around a moment, and then he looked at her. "Wanna come up top and take a walk?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Ziris replied. "I should stay down here for a few days, until the guard 'forgets' about me."

"Right," Brynjolf agreed, rubbing at his neck. "That's smart. And you're probably tired. I'll let you get some sleep."

"Good night, Brynjolf," Ziris said as he started to walk away. He nodded back, and crossed the cistern to get to his own bed. Ziris exhaled and rose to strip down to her tunic, carefully putting her armor on top of the chest beside her bed. She then slipped under the blanket and cuddled her pillow close to her face, eyes drifting shut.

She slid into a steady sleep that was unaffected by dreams, and that lasted for several hours. She was awoken, however, when she heard a door closing, and she opened one eye in order to see what was going on.

The cistern was dark aside for a few lanterns that glowed warmly above and next to a few beds, and beside the ladder. The door she'd heard wasn't the one to the Flagon; she would have recognized the sound of that. Instead, she watched in surprise as a dark figure slid away from the Guild's master vault and towards the ladder that lead up to the secret entrance. She watched the figure until it disappeared up the ladder, frowning to herself, but too drowsy to worry about it.

As soon as she was sure the dark form was gone, her eye closed again. She struggled to force herself back into sleep, but it easily evaded her, and she sighed to herself before sitting up in her bed. She pulled her hair back out of her face and glanced around for a moment. The beds that were meant to be occupied were, aside from one. She frowned when she noticed it, and then she slid her legs over the side of her bed and rose, stretching.

She quickly padded towards the Flagon's door and stepped through, closing it softly behind her. She followed the darkened corridor out through the hidden entrance in the cabinet, and stepped into the tavern.

Delvin was seated at the bar, a tin cup in front of him. Vekel was absent, however, probably fast asleep in the small room he occupied just outside the Flagon.

"Del?" He glanced in her direction, and smiled when he spotted her, inviting her over with a tilt of his head.

Ziris walked to the bar and settled down on a stool, resting her elbows on the wooden bar top and her chin in one hand.

"What're you doin' up, love?" Delvin queried, taking a sip of his drink.

Ziris considered telling him about the figure that had come out of the vault, but decided against it for some reason. She shook her head.

"Don't know," she said. "I woke up, and sleep wouldn't come back to me. I noticed you weren't in bed, and I got up to see if you were out here."

Delvin nodded, and set his mug back down on the bar. "Had a bad dream," he admitted. "Nothing a bit of mead can't wash away, though." He glanced at her again. "Heard Mercer had to break you out earlier this evening."

Ziris rolled her eyes to herself. "The house I was stealing from was being watched," she said with a dismissive shrug. "Not the first time I botched a job, but it was the first time I got taken to jail." She eyed him. "Ever been in jail, Delvin?"

"Aye," he confirmed. "Spent a week in a cell once, after Gallus refused to come get me. Said I needed to think over what I'd done."

Ziris frowned at him. "That bad?"

"The worse," Delvin agreed. He smiled. "I got into a brawl over Lyslin at the inn, and knocked the other one senseless. Then I got on a chair and attempted to swing from the chandelier."

"The Bee and Barb had a chandelier?" Ziris asked, and Delvin nodded.

"Until I pulled it from the ceiling." They shared a laugh at that, and Delvin wiped at his eyes. "A week in the Mistveil Keep jail made me realize that no woman wants a man to declare his undying love while hanging from a chandelier."

Ziris shook her head at him. "How old were you?"

"Not much younger than I am now," he responded. "Must've been… oh, thirteen or so years ago. Couple before you came along."

Ziris gave him a confused look. "How old _are_ you?" she asked, and Delvin chuckled.

"I'll never tell."

Before she could say anything more, there was the sound of movement from the direction of Vekel's room, and then the Guild's main lookout appeared, looking half-asleep and under-dressed.

"Hey, Maul," Delvin greeted. He held up his mead. "You wanna drink?"

"I heard you two laughing, and you woke me up," Maul grumbled, plopping down in a chair at one of the tables. "Aren't you up past your bedtime, Ziris?"

"Hahah," Ziris said without humor. "Very funny. You know I'm almost twenty, Maul."

Maul had been apart of the Guild before the betrayal, and he was still sticking around. Ziris had to wonder how long it would be before his loyalties switched entirely to the Black-Briars, who had gotten him the job as the Guild's lookout in the first place. Ziris imagined the Black-Briars would pay a lot more for eyes on the street than the Guild could afford to pay for eyes in the Ratway.

Maul yawned and rested his head onto the table. Within a few moments, he was snoring softly. Delvin and Ziris exchanged an amused glance, and then Ziris yawned herself.

"Go back to bed, love," Delvin advised. "I'll be all right."

Ziris nodded, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then she slipped away from where he sat and headed back towards the cistern. As soon as she walked in, she headed over to her bed and slid beneath the blanket again and was asleep instantly.

The following morning, she woke up later than normal, and found that the cistern was empty. She frowned, sitting up, aware that her hair must have been a sight. She quickly pulled it into a bun and slid out of bed, reaching for her armor. She couldn't go anywhere, but she didn't need to be walking around in her tunic.

As she was dressing, she heard the hidden entrance open, and she glanced up in time to see Brynjolf coming down the ladder. She smiled at him, and waved him over to her.

He took his time, strolling around the edges of the cistern rather than going across the bridges. He reached her, and she gestured to the buckle on her armor that always gave her trouble.

Brynjolf easily did it up for her, and she offered him a grateful look. "What would I do without you?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"I doubt you'll ever have to find out."

Ziris chuckled. "Did you already eat?"

"Couple of hours ago," Brynjolf replied. "You just woke up, I take it."

"Guilty," Ziris admitted with a shrug. "I woke up in the middle of the night and had a talk with Delvin."

"What about?"

"Jail time and girls," Ziris answered earnestly.

Brynjolf smirked. "I'll have to be awake sometime in order to sit in on one of those," he said. "It seems I'm missing out."

"You are," Ziris informed him, heading for the Flagon. "I'll see you later."

"Sure," Brynjolf replied, and Ziris was aware of him watching her as she walked through the door. She smiled a bit to herself as she walked down the hall and into the Flagon. Vekel stood behind the bar, cleaning a mug, and he lifted an eyebrow when he saw her.

"Sleep in today?" he queried.

"Maul didn't tell you?" Ziris returned, hopping onto a barstool.

"No, he didn't have too," Vekel answered. "I found him asleep at one of the tables. It wasn't hard to guess what happened." He set the mug down. "You and Delvin have got to stop having your late night conversations in here. You're going to make Maul quit, and that's not something the bar or the Guild can afford."

Ziris smiled complacently. "Maul loves listening to Delvin and I jabber about nothing," she said, and then she reached for some gold. "Breakfast?"

"Not warm," Vekel answered, eyeing the small pile of coins she made on the bar. "But… I guess I could stick something over the fire for a minute or three."

"You're the Man," Ziris said, winking, and Vekel rolled his eyes.

Ziris chortled to herself and turned around on the barstool, eyeing the Flagon. Vex was sitting alone at one of the tables, reading a book, and she spotted Tonilia on the dock, examining some weaponry sitting on the table before her.

Ziris had never had any close girlfriends, mostly due to the fact that she'd grown up on a farm, but partially due to the fact that neither Vex or Tonilia seemed willing to give her the time of day. Ziris didn't know what they had against her, or if they simply weren't friends with anyone.

Either way, Ziris didn't have a woman to talk too, and she realized that she hadn't thought about her mother in a long while.

Her mother, who'd looked nothing like her but had that same 'play by the rules' attitude. Her mother, who'd read to her at night if she wasn't busy doing anything else. Her mother, who'd been torn to shreds by vampires.

Ziris winced when Vekel plopped down a plate of fried ham and bread down on the bar, and she gave him a look.

"Thinking hard about something?" he asked her.

"My mother," Ziris admitted. "I haven't thought about her in a long time."

"Yeah, well…" Vekel shrugged and picked up a different mug to clean. "I never even met my mother, and I doubt most of the rest of the Guild remembers their own, so I wouldn't fret too much."

Ziris turned her attention to her food, but she couldn't help but wonder if any of the Guild did think about their parents. Ziris realized that the only one whom she'd spoke to about theirs was Brynjolf, and that he hadn't given her much.

 _They didn't want me, so I left and found a real family._

After that, she'd decided that maybe it was best if she didn't ask any of the others.

Still, she was curious. Had Mercer left his own family, like Brynjolf? Maybe his parents had been killed like hers. Was Delvin actually from a rich merchant family, and had decided he'd rather be a thief than live a cushy life? Did Vex have a mother somewhere in Skyrim? Was Tonilia's family still in Hammerfell?

Ziris contemplated this as she ate her food, and came to the conclusion that it didn't matter much. They were a family, now, and the Guild was the only family they all needed.

After she'd finished her meal, she thanked Vekel and returned to the cistern. Deciding it was best not to waste time while she was under house-arrest, she went to the training room and froze when she saw… it.

"I hate you," she muttered to the dummy wearing the bell-infested coat.

It was meant to help with pickpocket training. Whenever you reached into one of the pockets on the coat, the dozens of little bells sewn onto it would ring, unless you were being _especially_ careful. Ziris, who hated pickpocketing with a fiery passion, in turn hated the dummy with a fiery passion.

"I _really_ hate you," she told it.

"It has never done anything to you."

She turned and found Mercer leaning in the doorway behind her, his arms crossed.

"It makes fun of me," Ziris responded. "That's bad enough."

"It's supposed to help," Mercer said.

"It just makes me feel bad about myself," Ziris told him, walking over to the training chests instead. "That's all it's good for."

"Hmm."

"What're you up to today?" Ziris asked him, pulling out a lockpick and her dagger before sitting down in front of the big dwarven chest and setting to work on the lock.

"I was going to see if you wanted to spar a bit," Mercer said.

Ziris looked over at him in surprise. "Really?"

"We haven't trained in swordsmanship in a while," Mercer continued, stepping into the room. "I need to make sure you're still quick on your feet."

Ziris grinned, and hopped up, sliding away her dagger while leaving the pick in the lock. "I'm always quick on my feet," she told him, walking over to where he was pulling wooden weapons out of a chest.

"We'll see," Mercer replied, and then he tossed her a sword and dagger. Ziris easily caught both, and she swung the sword around in a circle as she backed away a few paces. Mercer watched in amusement as she immediately reflected his stance.

"Kind of what happens when you're the one who taught me how to fight," Ziris said, seeing his expression.

"That's true," Mercer admitted, swinging his own sword a few times. "Ready?"

"Sure," Ziris answered.

Still, neither of them made the first move.

Ziris couldn't help but laugh. "I don't think either of us are going to go first," she told him.

In response, Mercer took a quick step forward, stabbing his sword in her direction. Ziris barely had time to deflect it with her dagger, and she quickly pushed her own sword down below the two blades and took a jab at him.

Mercer pulled away before she could reach him, and spun around, swinging his dagger towards her this time. Ziris twisted in the opposite direction from it, and smacked at the dagger with her sword. It fell from his grip easily, and clattered to the stone floor.

"Hah," Ziris said, grinning.

"Stop," Mercer mumbled, reaching for the wooden dagger. Ziris let him grab it, but once it was back in his hand, she shuffled forward, poking at him with her sword. Mercer pushed it away with his own, leaving a wide open space right in his chest for her to stab with her dagger. She did so, and he grunted, backing away a few paces.

"You're slower than I am," Ziris told him, rotating the wrist of the hand holding the dagger.

"I had a late night," Mercer said, relaxing his shoulders. He exhaled and flexed the hand around his sword.

"What were you doing?" Ziris asked, frowning.

Mercer gave her a look. "Is that any of your business?"

"N-no," Ziris stammered, looking away. "I guess it's not. Sorry."

Mercer sighed to himself, and Ziris glanced over at him. He jerked his head, indicating that she should follow him. She did so, and mirrored him as he put away his wooden weapons and then leaned against the wall beside the training dummies. Ziris joined him, and looked at him in confusion.

"I want you to have this," he said, producing a steel key from somewhere. He handed it to her, and she tested its weight in her hand for a moment before glancing up at him again. "It's to the master vault."

"I'm not supposed to have one of these," Ziris said, attempting to give it back. Keys for the master vault were for senior members of the Guild only, and high ranking ones at that. As far as she knew, only Mercer, Delvin, and Molgrom had one. Molgrom probably didn't even have his anymore, because of how often he was arrested and gone from the Guild.

"Why are you giving me this?" Ziris asked him when he didn't take it from her.

Mercer shrugged. "You've earned it," he said, "and Delvin and I shouldn't be the only ones with copies."

"But… shouldn't you give one to Brynjolf instead? Or Vex or Niruin?"

Mercer lifted an eyebrow at her. "Do you think I trust them more than I trust you?" Ziris didn't know what to say to that, and she turned her gaze back down to the key. "I don't want you to think you'll need to use it for anything. It's just a precaution, in case one of the other copies goes missing. The vault needs two keys in order to be unlocked." He nodded to the one she was holding. "Yours is the backup."

"And… you're sure you want _me_ to have it?" Ziris queried. "Even after what happened last night?"

"Yes," Mercer said with a nod. "But… keep quiet about it, all right? I don't need Vex getting on my back about giving one to you rather than to her."

Ziris knew better than to argue with him, and so she nodded back. Mercer gave her a pat on the shoulder and stood up, gesturing towards the training dummy that was wearing the bell-coat.

"Practice a bit, and I'll let Delvin give you a job for tomorrow," he said.

Ziris nodded again, still looking down at her key. She listened as Mercer walked away from the training room, and then she exhaled to herself and slid her key away into one of her hidden pockets inside the armor. She didn't want to know what Mercer had been doing in the master vault the night before, but now she had no doubts that it had been him she'd seen leave it.

She was tempted to go to Delvin about it, see if he knew anything, but before she could make up her mind, Brynjolf poked his head into the training room, and grinned when he saw her.

"You want me to help you with your pickpocketing for a while?" he asked her, entering the room fully. "I have to head to Ivarstead on a job in a bit, but I could work with you until then, if you want?"

Ziris returned his grin and nodded, straightening up. "Sounds good."

She forgot all about Mercer's excursion into the master vault as she settled into her training, making sure to pay close attention to what Brynjolf was saying. After all, if she wanted to beat the bad luck that had seemed to have settled over the Guild, she needed to hone her skills to their sharpest points.


	5. Drunken Acts (Refurbished)

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

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 **And here we have an example of an author doing her best to rewrite a short Fiction she wrote a long time ago, so that it fits with the canon she came up with afterwards, but still sort of resembles the thing she originally wrote.**

 **It's not easily done, lemme tell ya.**

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 **Reviewer Replies:**

 **mia78: Thank you! I hope 'my Mercer' isn't too OOC...  
I think you'll find that romance between Ziris and Brynjolf here in this chapter, my friend. You might want to milk it for all it's worth, though, because after this, and next week's chapter, the romance kind of disappears.  
You'll see why, I promise.**

 **Manu: Thank you! I'm loving every part the more times I reread this in order to edit. Please, keep enjoying!**

 **Lydia: I'm updating a day early just for you. I'm glad you're enjoying the Fiction!**

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 **Chapter 5: Drunken Acts (Refurbished)**

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"I just don't understand, Delvin," Ziris sighed, setting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "He's avoiding me like I'm… I don't know, Maven Black-Briar."

Delvin chuckled and shook his head. "Maybe we need to put you directly into his path, then," he commented.

"What do you mean?" Ziris asked, perking up a bit. She sat up straighter in her chair, and looked him in the eye. Delvin was grinning mischievously.

"I may have sent Brynjolf on a job to Whiterun," he began, leaning back in his own chair. "I suppose I could… send you that way, too…"

Ziris frowned at once. "Isn't it dangerous to have two thieves stealing from the same city at the same time?"

"Who said anything about the 'job' you'll be on would be real?" Delvin inquired, and Ziris's frown changed into a grin.

"All right, old man," she said, leaning across the table towards him. "What's Brynjolf up to?"

Delvin went into detail about the job he'd given Brynjolf, including where he thought the item he was supposed to be stealing was located. Ziris listened to all this, making sure to pick up on every tiny detail. When Delvin was done explaining, he gave her a meaningful look, and she nodded.

"Guess I better go… get that thing," she said, standing up from the table and heading for the cistern.

Delvin watched her go in amusement, and Ziris couldn't help but chuckle to herself as well as she pushed open the door into the cistern.

She didn't know when it had happened, but at some point in the last year, she'd realized that Brynjolf was appearing to be more than a friend in her eyes, and her heart. Everytime she saw him, it took her a moment to settle her breathing and for her heart to return to its normal pace.

She hadn't thought her newfound affections were obvious, but she hadn't been blind to Brynjolf's. He clearly thought of her as something more as well, because she caught him looking at her when they weren't near one another, and she'd picked up a bit of conversation between himself and Vipir a month back.

He'd mentioned getting to know a woman before trying anything with her. Ziris couldn't be sure, but what else could it mean, other than he wanted to be friends first? They were friends. Good friends.

She didn't know what she'd need for an excursion to Whiterun, especially on a fake job, so she just tossed a few things into a pack and slung it over her shoulder before heading in the direction of the hidden entrance. She was going to Whiterun to confront Brynjolf, because she was tired of him prancing around her and avoiding talking about whatever it was they were feeling. That was not how their relationship had ever worked, and it wasn't about to start, either.

Ziris knew their routine, and she needed to know if their affections were going to change it, and if so, how much, so that she could adjust accordingly. She couldn't do anything without a routine, and that included working with and having a relationship with Brynjolf.

She needed to set things straight, and in turn set her mind at ease.

Needless to say, however, the trip to Whiterun, and the 'confrontation' didn't go as she planned them to.

On the way to Whiterun, for one thing, her carriage driver insisted that she pay him extra for taking the 'fastest route from the Rift to Whiterun Hold', and she'd been forced to hand over fifty septims rather than the normal twenty the journey would cost.

It had dampened her mood considerably, so much so that she almost didn't notice Brynjolf later than night, as she was sitting in the Bannered Mare and nursing a mug of ale. She watched as he settled down at the bar and ordered a mug of his own, probably that nasty mead that he liked and she couldn't stand. She watched him drink it, waiting for the inn to clear out, or at least for it to quiet down long enough for him to slip out of it undetected.

That was her cue.

Ziris had followed Brynjolf around the city's marketplace, and had 'accidentally' gone to 'steal' the same item that Brynjolf was meant to be taking. She'd then dealt with a guard who caught the two of them red-handed, essentially. Brynjolf helped quite a lot by pretending to be drunk, and it made Ziris wonder why she'd never known he could act before.

After that, however, she'd lost all her nerve, and had let him leave without bringing up their relationship once. She had known such a thing would probably happen, but that didn't mean she wasn't disappointed.

She'd returned to Riften via another carriage the following morning, empty handed and brokenhearted.

Delvin didn't want to hear it, however, when she went to complain to him.

"It'll all work out, love," he told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Give him a day or two to get his bearings, and he'll come around. We gave him the push he needed; now he has to do the rest."

Ziris didn't know if she believed him, but she agreed nonetheless, mostly because she didn't want to talk anymore.

After that, she'd left the cistern and gone up to the surface, heading for the place she'd discovered several years prior that she snuck away to whenever she needed to get away. It was typically after a fight with Mercer, or after she botched a job and Vex gave her a piece of her mind, and Ziris needed to cool off.

Now, however, she was sitting up on the roof of Honorhall Orphanage in order to consider all that had happened in the past few days, and come to the conclusion that literally nothing had been born from it.

She was watching the sun set over the mountains in the distance, the fiery orange color of it making the lake burn, and drinking her second bottle of ale, when she heard a throat being cleared from down on the ground.

She crawled to the edge of the roof and peered down over the edge of it, her eyes widening when she spotted Brynjolf standing there in a set of street clothes, tossing a bottle of his own away into the other trash littering the street.

"How'd you -?"

"Your secret hiding place isn't actually so secret, Ziris," Brynjolf replied, smiling a bit. "Can I…?"

"Sure," Ziris invited, scooting backwards away from the edge in order to give him room to climb up, finishing off the ale. He did so, grunting a bit as he hauled himself up onto the roof beside her. He let out a heavy breath once he was situated, and his gaze settled on the setting sun.

"Wow," he said after a moment. "That's something else."

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Ziris agreed. "I don't come up here and watch it as much as I should. It helps me relax."

Brynjolf glanced over at her, and Ziris stiffened under his gaze. Without asking first, Brynjolf reached over, and slid his hand into hers. Ziris didn't react for a moment, and then she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, glancing over at him.

"You weren't in Whiterun on a job, were you?" he asked softly, and she shook her head.

"I wanted to talk to you," she admitted. "I feel like you've been avoiding me, and I think I know why, but I wanted to make sure." She blinked at him. "You probably know that, though, since you know me."

Brynjolf reached up with his other hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear. The ring he'd stolen and slid onto a chain for her glinted as the shadow of her hair moved away, and Brynjolf picked it up, examining it for a moment.

Finally, however, he met her gaze again, and Ziris disappeared into the forest of his without any hesitation. She'd always thought his eyes were the best thing about him, but she'd never admitted it to herself until then. Now, however, she felt like she could.

"Brynjolf -"

"Shh." He let the ring fall back against her armor, and then he cupped her jaw in one hand, leaning forward. Ziris's heart sailed into her throat when their lips met, and she exhaled through her nose, reaching up to wrap her own hand around the back of his neck.

She let go of his hand with the other to tangle her fingers into his hair, and Brynjolf's went around to her lower back, pulling her across the roof tiles and closer to him. He practically pulled her into his lap, and Ziris broke off the kiss with a chuckle of amusement as the night before drifted into her head.

"What?" Brynjolf queried, running his nose beneath her jaw. Ziris tilted her head upwards, still laughing.

"I didn't know that you could pretend so well," she told him. "I actually thought you were drunk last night, but only for a minute or two."

Brynjolf leaned backwards, and she lowered her head so that she could look at him. He was grinning. "A thief has to know how to act," he told her.

"Really?" Ziris shrugged her shoulders, letting the hand in his hair join the other on the back of his neck. "I've never had to act in order to get out of a situation."

"That's because you always let your situations escalate before you have the opportunity," Brynjolf teased.

"Oh yeah?" He nodded, pressing a kiss to her nose, and Ziris lifted an eyebrow at him. "Well than, maybe I should let you teach me a few things, in case I ever need them for an _non escalated_ situation."

"Sure, I can teach you," Brynjolf agreed, and Ziris didn't resist when he shifted their positions so that she was lying back on the roof, and he was hovering over her. "You wouldn't even have to pay me."

"Why's that?" Ziris queried, sliding her hands down to his waist.

"Because teaching you will be payment enough," Brynjolf answered, and then he leaned down and kissed her again, deeper and more languidly this time.

After that… well.

After waking up with nothing on, Ziris decided that she needed to get as far away from Brynjolf as possible. Head pounding, she dressed quickly and hurried off of the roof, leaving the still-sleeping Brynjolf alone in all his naked glory.

She couldn't believe she'd been stupid enough to let that happen. Obviously, they'd both been drunk, and feelings had been running high. They'd let their inhibitions get away from them, like idiots. It was never going to happen, again, however, not if Ziris had any say.

Delvin, however, made it almost impossible to ignore what had transpired, mostly because he wanted to know exactly why she wanted a job as far from Riften as she could get.

"I'm not jus' gonna send you to another hold without knowin' why," Delvin informed her.

"But you'll know why," Ziris tried. "I'll be there on a job."

Delvin gave her a look, and Ziris sighed, leaning against the wall. "Please, Del. I need to get out of here for a while."

"What happened?" Delvin asked again.

Ziris bit her lip, and glanced in both directions of the hidden hallway, before she sighed to herself, and turned her eyes down to the floor.

"Brynjolf and I might have had a…" She winced. "... romantic encounter, last night, on the roof of the orphanage."

"No you didn't," Delvin said, and when Ziris glanced up at him, the grin he had on his face disappeared at once. "Yes you did." She nodded, wearily, and Delvin exhaled heavily. "It's fine."

"No it is not! It is not _fine_!" Ziris shouted. "It is the _opposite_ of fine! We were _drunk_ , Delvin!"

"Keep your voice down!" Delvin advised, just as loudly. "Do you want this getting around to everyone?"

Ziris started to retort, but before she could, there was a very recognizable voice coming from the end of the hallway closer to the cistern. "Delvin?"

"Shit," Ziris cursed, and then she scaled the wall. Delvin was about to follow her path with his gaze, but Brynjolf appeared before he could, and he looked at him instead.

"Good morning!" he greeted, noticing how rumpled Brynjolf's street clothes were immediately. "Looks like you had a rough night."

Ziris cursed silently to herself from where she was holding herself up against the ceiling. The stone of the wall was digging into her palms, and she gritted her teeth together as Brynjolf offered Delvin a cursory glance.

"Don't mention it," he grumbled. "Where's Ziris?"

"Oh!" _Please, Delvin_. "I uh… I haven't seen her yet today."

Ziris released a silent, relieved breath.

"Oh." Brynjolf sounded… disappointed? Ziris must've been hearing it wrong. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"Not really," Delvin said. "I guess she could be in the Flagon, but I'd didn't see her in there."

"I should check," Brynjolf said after a moment. "I need to talk to her."

"Go right ahead," Delvin said, stepping out of his way. Ziris watched as Brynjolf continued on down the hall, and then she let herself fall, landing lightly on all fours. Delvin watched in appreciation as she stood up.

"That's pretty neat," he said to her. "You should teach me how to do that sometime."

"Maybe later," Ziris replied. "Do you have a job for me somewhere or not?"

Delvin sighed to himself, and dug into one of his pouches for a moment. He then pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to her. "Someone wants a ring from Radiant Raiment in Solitude," he told her.

"Thank you," Ziris said, putting her hands together. "Please, please keep this from Brynjolf, all right? I need some time to think."

Delvin gazed at her for a moment, and then he offered her a single nod. Ziris looked relieved. "Thank you, Del. I'll see you when I get back."

With that, she turned tail and hurried for the cistern. Delvin watched her go, and then he sighed to himself and started back for the Flagon.

As he started through the door, Brynjolf stopped him, giving him a look.

Delvin hesitated for a moment, and then he gestured towards the cistern. "She's leavin' for Solitude. I'd run."

And that was exactly what Brynjolf did.

Ziris heard him before he spoke, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

 _"No hiding from this one,"_ the shadows told her, and she scowled at them.

"Ziris, hold on," Brynjolf called when he spotted her, and she forced herself to a halt, wanting nothing more than to keep going.

She turned around to face him, and Brynjolf stopped a few steps away. He held out his arms. "You're just going to leave without talking to me about what happened last night?" he asked her.

"That was my plan," Ziris agreed. "The one that you've interrupted."

"I can't just let you go without at least trying to talk to you," Brynjolf said, stepping closer. "That's what you wanted to do when you came to find me in Whiterun, right? So, let's talk."

"About what?" Ziris questioned. "Hmm? I know that we must have mutual feelings for one another, but I don't know if I want to act on them, especially with our line of work. It's not smart, Brynjolf."

"But can we just ignore it?" he retorted. "I don't want to do that."

Ziris stared at him for a moment, and then she lowered her gaze. "I guess I don't, either," she admitted, "but what else is there to do?"

When she looked up again, Brynjolf was closer, and about to take her hand. "Not ignore it?" he suggested, meeting her gaze.

"You're hilarious," Ziris sighed, taking a small step backwards. Before she could get far, Brynjolf grabbed her hand, and he pulled her right up against him. Ziris let out an exhalation, and glanced up at him. "This is a bad idea, me and you," she said.

"It's a pretty good bad idea, then," Brynjolf replied.

Ziris gazed at him for another moment, and then she smiled weakly. "Isn't it, though?" she asked, and then she leaned up onto her toes and pressed a long kiss against his mouth. Brynjolf tightened the hold he had around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

Ziris broke off the kiss before it could go too far, however, and she met his eyes again. "I should still take care of this job in Solitude," she told him, and Brynjolf nodded.

"We'll talk more when you get back?" he suggested.

"Sure," Ziris agreed. "I think that's a good idea."

"Good." Brynjolf let her go, but before she could walk away, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back long enough to give her another kiss.

Then he let her go.

Ziris gave him a wave, and then she turned on her heel and headed out of Riften, smiling a bit to herself as she went, and not without a small skip to her step. Maybe not much about their routine would change at all.

A week later, Ziris returned to the Ragged Flagon, her pack weighing heavily with the things she'd stolen from Solitude on her trip. Delvin noticed how cheerful she was the minute he spotted her, and he waved her over to his table.

"Something good happen while you were gone, or… did it happen before you left?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Ziris laughed at him, lowering her pack to the table so that she could show him what she'd gotten. First, however, she produced the ring that he'd wanted, and set it down on the table in front of him.

"Thank you," Delvin said, putting it away in one of his pouches. "What else have you got in there?"

"Just some extra things," Ziris replied, pulling out a tall green potion that she'd snatched, followed by a black robe with an intricate design of golden roses sewn into it.

Delvin picked up the potion and frowned as he peered at it. "What is this?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Ziris responded. "That's why I took it."

"Huh." Delvin set it back down, and ran a hand over the robes. "Why'd you steal extra things?"

"I wanted to," Ziris answered. "Do you want either of them?"

"I guess I could see about selling this robe," Delvin replied, "but I don't know who'd want a mystery potion." He pushed both out of the way and looked up at her. "But what _happened_?"

Ziris picked up her pack and slung it over her shoulder, tapping Delvin on the forehead as she rose.

"I'll tell you all about it once I get this put away," she promised, and then headed for the corridor leading to the cistern.

As soon as she passed through the wardrobe, she heard the door to the cistern opening, and she paused when she saw it was Brynjolf. His face immediately turned as red as his hair when they made eye contact, and she ducked her head, remembering their encounter in the graveyard before she had left.

"Good to see you in one piece," he greeted, clearing his throat.

"Yeah, uh…" She licked her lips and smiled at him. "I missed you, while I was gone."

Brynjolf returned the grin. "I missed you, too," he leveled.

Ziris nodded, intending for the conversation to end there, but as she started to move past him, Brynjolf suddenly took her by the shoulders and pressed her against the stone wall of the corridor, his body against hers and his mouth claiming her own.

Ziris hummed thoughtfully through the kiss, her pack falling from her hand as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Brynjolf snaked a hand down to her thighs and lifted her legs up so that they could wrap around his waist. He pressed against her, keeping her stable against the wall as his lips trailed down her jaw to her neck.

Ziris tilted her head to one side, eyes closed as he kissed and sucked on her skin. She was faintly aware of a door opening nearby, but she wasn't certain she was hearing it until she was suddenly dropped to the floor again, Brynjolf pulling away from her as though an invisible force had pushed him back. After a moment, Ziris realized why he'd parted so quickly.

Mercer stood before them, arms crossed and a glare on his face. He raised an eyebrow as Ziris pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and drew her lips inwards, hoping to hide their swolleness from him, although it was pointless. He clearly already knew what had been happening.

There was silence for quite some time as Mercer glared at them. Finally, however, he inhaled through his nose and spoke: "If you're going to do that, at least do it somewhere private." He shook his head. "It's unprofessional."

"Sorry, Mercer," Ziris said, glancing down at the floor.

"Won't happen again," Brynjolf added.

Mercer glanced between the two of them before he snorted and pushed past them into the Flagon. Ziris waited a moment before she glanced at Brynjolf, and found him already looking at her.

"That was… embarrassing, to say the least," he said.

"I'd agree with you, but it was also sort of funny," she responded.

Brynjolf shook his head. "Maybe to you. Mercer looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Oh, Brynjolf, don't you know that's Mercer's typical facial expression?" Ziris inquired, and she managed to get a laugh out of him. Ziris joined in, and she decided that she was glad she'd gone after him to Whiterun.

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 **I must have written this when I was on my _Sherlock_ kick a few months back, before the garbage ending to series 4, because Ziris quotes Watson in this chapter. **

**Free cookies if you can find the quote I'm referring to.**


	6. Typical Day

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

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 **And this is probably one of the chapters I like the least, even though we introduce one of my favorite canon characters.**

 **Oh well. I still love Thrynn deeply, even though writing him is difficult because of how little interaction there is with him during the game.**

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 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Lydia: Thank you for reviewing again, friend! This is another chapter that features Brynjolf, Ziris, and their relationship, although it's sort of the last one where they're actually a couple. Take it all in while you can.**

 **Manu: I'm glad you remember, and liked the rewritten version! And I'm glad you love Ziris and Brynjolf, too. Please enjoy this chapter as well. :)**

 **mia78: Here's the next one! Hope you like this one, too.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Typical Day**

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"Ziris, this is Thrynn," Mercer told her, gesturing to the young man standing beside him. "I want you to show him around the cistern."

Ziris offered Thrynn a smile, and her hand. "It's good to meet you, Thrynn," she said. "Welcome to the Thieves Guild."

Thrynn took her hand and shook it. "Thanks."

"Go on," Mercer said, ushering them away from himself and his desk. "I have work to do."

Ziris shook her head and led Thrynn away from the desk. "Is he like that a lot?" Thrynn asked her, and she nodded.

"That's why we love him," she said, and then she gestured towards the closet thing, which was the master vault. "Here you see the reason why. Mercer's all about keeping the Guild on its feet, and this vault is where we keep the riches that do that." She frowned to herself. "Though, how much is left in there is beyond me."

Thrynn nodded in agreement. "Brynjolf mentioned that the Guild was going through a rough patch."

"More like a rough era," Ziris murmured.

She'd been with the guild for twenty three winters. Twenty three winters prior, the Guild had started its downward spiral. She was honestly amazed that they hadn't completely run flat after all this time, but she knew that Mercer was doing all he could to keep them going, so she'd never worried all that much.

In order to keep Thrynn from regretting he'd ever accepted Brynjolf's offer, she looked up at him. "We're holding ourselves together, though. Shows just how resilient we are, even when everything in the universe and their mother are working against us."

Thrynn finally cracked something that could have been a smile. "Fair enough."

She led him around the walkway to the kitchen next, and gestured to it. "We eat here, sometimes, but there's a tavern of sorts attached to the cistern through that door over there." She pointed to it. "You probably already passed through it."

"All right," Thrynn said, glancing around the kitchen. He nodded towards the ladder. "Secret entrance?"

"Exactly," Ziris said, pleased. "You'll fit in around here no problem." She waved her hand. "I'll show you the training room, and then we'll go to the Flagon."

Thrynn nodded his acceptance, and as they walked to the training room, Ziris queried about what he'd done prior to accepting Brynjolf's offer.

"I was part of a bandit clan."

She glanced up at him in surprise, and he nodded. "I joined up with them maybe ten years ago. Small clan... maybe twenty men. We'd raid villages, rob caravans... but it was always about the killing for them." When he saw Ziris's expression, he backtracked. "Don't get me wrong; the first few years with that clan were some of the best of my life. All the food I could eat, all the wine I could drink, all the women…"

He trailed off and glanced down at her again, then cleared his throat. "We raided a caravan one spring. I think it was a few wagons, with some farmers moving to a new village. They didn't put up much of a fight. When all that was left were the women and children, our leader, Garthek, ordered us to kill them, too."

"You… you _didn't_ , though, right?" Ziris queried softly, and Thrynn quickly shook his head.

"I refused, and Garthek ordered the clan to kill me as well. Thankfully, I had a few friends, and the two sides tore each other to pieces." He exhaled. "After it was all over, we went our separate ways."

Ziris swallowed, not sure she wanted to know the answer to her next question. "And Garthek?"

Thrynn smiled thinly. "I left his head on a pike at the wreckage of the caravan."

"What happened to the rest of the clan?" Ziris asked him.

"Don't know, don't really care," Thrynn replied. "I suppose they moved on, just like I did."

They'd stopped just inside the training room, and Ziris turned away from him, gesturing around it. "Here it is," she said. "It's not much, but it suits our needs." She pointed to the training dummies and the targets. "Those are good for practicing archery and swordsmanship." She waved her hand at the chests on the opposite side of the room. "And if you ever want to lock pick something without the risk of getting arrested, those training chests are a good option."

"It's nice," Thrynn told her, and Ziris nodded.

"It does its job, that's for sure." She then turned and started out of the training room again, Thrynn following behind her. They passed Brynjolf as he was heading for the training room himself, and he winked at Ziris.

"Sword-work later?" he asked her, and she nodded, reaching over to grab his armor and pull him into a kiss before letting him go on.

Thrynn watched this interaction with furrowed brows, and when he looked at Ziris in confusion, she grinned and waved her hand in the direction Brynjolf had gone.

"We've been on again, off again for a few years now," she told him. "That's how relationships work in the Thieves Guild. You'll probably find that out soon enough."

Thrynn didn't lose his frown, however, and Ziris decided to drop the subject all together. Instead, she pushed her way through the door into the hidden hallway, and led the way through it and the storage closet into the Ragged Flagon. Thrynn nodded when she gestured around it.

"It's good," he said, eyeing the bar and the collection of drinks Vekel had hiding behind it.

"Come on," Ziris suggested, leading him up onto the deck, where both Delvin and Vex were seated. She gestured first to Delvin, and then to Vex, and introduced them to Thrynn. "He's our newest recruit."

"Good to meet ya," Delvin said, grinning at him, while Vex merely nodded.

"You too," Thrynn replied.

"Delvin and Vex will give you jobs if you ask for them," Ziris went on. "In fact, I have one that Vex gave me up on the surface that I really should take care of before the day's over…"

Vex frowned at her, and Ziris grinned sweetly back, before turning and gesturing to Tonilia, who was silently reading to herself at another table, not paying attention to any of them.

"That's Tonilia, and she's our fence," Ziris said. "She's very good at her job."

"Seems like everything functions well down here," Thrynn said as they started back towards the cistern.

"We're all one big happy Guild," Ziris told him.

"Not a family?" Thrynn asked, and Ziris shook her head.

"We leave that title for the Dark Brotherhood."

Thrynn nodded in understanding, and passed through the door into the cistern, which Ziris was holding open for him. She followed him in, and then gestured towards the beds. "I'm not really sure which ones have people sleeping in them at this point, but if someone kicks you out, just move onto the next one."

"Huh," Thrynn said, and he started for hers. Quickly, Ziris slipped between him and it, and shook her head.

"This one's mine."

"Oh," Thrynn said, and then he grinned again. It was a nice grin, and Ziris wondered why he didn't use it more often. "I'll try to remember that."

There was an underlying meaning to that, and Ziris decided not to comment on it, as she and Brynjolf were currently on again. Instead, she scooted away from him.

"You think you got everything?" she asked, and he nodded. "All right then. If you have any questions, we're all incredibly friendly, so don't worry about asking any of us."

"Thank you for showing me around," Thrynn said, and Ziris smiled at him.

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you later, probably."

"Sure," Thrynn agreed, and then Ziris turned and headed for the training room again.

She liked fighting with Brynjolf, because she always beat him, without fail. She also liked being there when he was training with another new addition to the Guild, a young man named Rune, whom Brynjolf had found several years prior, in a similar state as Ziris, when Mercer had found her.

Indeed, when she entered the training room, she found Rune already sparring with Brynjolf. Both men had removed their Guild armor, and wore nothing by their pants and the tunics that the thieves wore beneath the armor.

Ziris leaned against the doorway to watch them, smiling to herself as Rune danced around Brynjolf in the way she'd suggested. The younger thief easily made it behind Brynjolf and poked him in the back with his training sword.

Brynjolf cursed amiably as Rune bounded backwards away from him when he spun around to retaliate. "You taught him that, didn't you?" he asked, noticing Ziris in the doorway.

"Maybe," she replied. "You can't prove anything."

Brynjolf grunted as he tried to go after Rune again. The younger thief easily spun out of the way, and knocked Brynjolf's dagger from his hand in the process.

"Hah!" Rune said, grinning widely as Brynjolf reached down to grab for it. "You have no chance."

"Apparently not," Brynjolf agreed wearily, giving Ziris a look. She smiled back, and gestured for him to pass over the weapons he was holding. He did so without hesitation, and then went to lean against the wall and watch.

Ziris stepped up in front of Rune and grinned at him. "Think you can beat me?" she inquired, and Rune shook his head.

"Probably not, but I'll try my best."

The two thieves began to circle one another, moving in opposite directions. Ziris made sure to keep clear of things like the dummies so that she wouldn't get trapped from behind, all while watching Rune and waiting for him to slip up.

"I'm not trapping myself, either," Rune told her. "Don't bother waiting."

"Damn," Ziris said. "Maybe I gave you _too_ many tips."

Before Rune could reply, she darted forward and ducked, poking one of the daggers she was holding into his stomach. Rune grunted on impact, and staggered back a few paces.

Brynjolf shook his head when Ziris looked at him for praise. "He said you would beat him," the thief stated. "Give him a chance."

Ziris rolled her eyes at him, and then spun away from Rune when he charged at her, tripping him neatly with the foot she wasn't spinning on. Rune fell heavily to the stone floor, his weapon sliding away from him, and Ziris turned to face him, shaking her head.

"Never assume the person you're fighting's distracted," she told him.

Rune sat up, rubbing at his elbow. "That hurt," he said, glancing down at the scratch he'd gotten from his fall.

"Sorry," Ziris said, and then she offered him her hand. "I should probably just stick to fighting someone who has a chance of beating me."

"Mercer hasn't stepped foot in the training room since Molgrom was released from prison last time," Brynjolf said. "You'll have to deal with us lesser fighters instead."

"How unfortunate for you," Ziris decided, and Brynjolf offered her an eyeroll. She grinned back, and then gave Rune a pat on the shoulder. "How about you let Brynjolf and I talk for a minute?"

Rune wasted no time in darting out of the training room, and Ziris immediately turned back to Brynjolf, and giggled when he put his arms around her waist and tugged her closer to him. She dropped her weapons to the floor and put her own around his neck.

"You've got to let the lad learn a thing or two, sometimes, rather than just continue to kick his ass during every bout," Brynjolf suggested, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, but what's the fun in that?" she asked him. "I'd lose my winning streak, and people would stop betting on me."

"The others bet on you?" Brynjolf queried, frowning, and Ziris nodded.

"Just when I'm fighting you, or someone else who sort of matches my skill," she said. "Niruin's in charge of it. We split the winnings 70/30."

"Why does he get seventy percent?" Brynjolf inquired. "He doesn't do any of the fighting."

"No, but we both know I'd never lose, and that I make more doing jobs than he does," Ziris responded with a shrug. "It keeps him from being mad about that last bit."

"Yeah, well, we only send Niruin out on long range jobs for a reason," Brynjolf agreed after a moment. "Still. What does Mercer think about it?"

"What Mercer doesn't know won't hurt him," Ziris said. "Besides, if he knew about it, he'd probably want a piece of the winnings, too, and I don't think Niruin would appreciate that." She gave Brynjolf a look. "So don't you tell him."

Brynjolf didn't respond that he wouldn't, but Ziris trusted him, so she let it drop. She leaned up on her toes in order to place a kiss against his lips. "So, are we doing anything tomorrow? I can't tonight, since I'm supposed to be going to Ivarstead on a job for Vex."

"I could come with you," Brynjolf suggested, and Ziris tilted her head back and forth.

"I don't really think it's a two person job."

"Maybe not, but at least I could keep you company on the walk there." Ziris sighed, and Brynjolf spun her around. "C'mon, Ziris."

"I suppose you can come, but… won't Mercer notice you're gone?"

"What does it matter?" Brynjolf asked.

"It doesn't," Ziris replied after a moment, and Brynjolf grinned.

"Right. So let's go, before it gets dark." He winked. "We might have to spend the night there."

Ziris grinned as he let her waist go in order to take her hand instead, and she let him pull her out of the training room.

They paused before entering the cistern again, and Ziris peered around the corner of the hallway, glancing in the direction of Mercer's desk. He wasn't there.

"Perfect," she whispered to Brynjolf. "On the count of three, we run for the ladder. Ready?"

"Always," Brynjolf responded.

"All right." Ziris took his hand again. "One… two… three!"

She quickly pulled him behind her and they raced for the ladder, skirting around where Rune was sitting with Cynric and Vipir at the table in the kitchen.

"Where are you two going?" Vipir asked with a grin, and Ziris waved him off with her free hand, ushering Brynjolf up the ladder in front of her.

"Don't worry about it, and don't say anything to Mercer."

"And what secrets are you keeping from me now?"

Ziris winced, and turned around to face Mercer, who had his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"I'm bringing Brynjolf on a job with me," she stated, deciding lying would be the wrong thing to do, now that he'd caught her.

"To where?" Mercer questioned.

"... Ivarstead."

"Gods." Mercer rolled his eyes. "Be back by tomorrow afternoon, or I'm taking _all_ your pay from this job, and all of whatever Brynjolf makes on the next one of his."

Ziris nodded, and grinned at him. "We'll be back, I promise."

Without waiting for him to say anything else, she darted up the ladder after Brynjolf, who was waiting for her outside of the tomb, looking worried.

"Everything good?"

"Fine," Ziris answered, taking his hand in hers. "Come on."

They headed out of the western gates, and started down the road towards Ivarstead. They had a two hour walk ahead of them, but they knew how to make time go by quickly, especially Brynjolf.

"That one looks like a tree."

Ziris frowned. "I don't see it."

"Are you looking at the right one?" Brynjolf asked, and he pointed towards the cloud he was talking about again. "That one, right there."

Ziris tilted her head first one way, and then the other. She didn't see anything that looked like a tree, but she did see an arrow. "I think it looks more like an arrow," she told him.

Brynjolf laughed. "Of course you do."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ziris demanded, shoving him with her shoulder. Brynjolf shoved her right back, still chortling, and Ziris scowled at him. "What does it mean?" she said again.

"I mean that it just makes sense that you'd see an arrow," Brynjolf replied, taking a step sideways, away from her. "You shoot a lot of them." Ziris raised an eyebrow, and he shied away. "Gods, you really look like Mercer when you do that."

"Now you're just asking for it," Ziris exclaimed, jumping towards him.

Brynjolf easily warded her off just by holding out his hands, and catching hers in them before she could reach him. He held her away from him at a distance, grinning boyishly, and Ziris huffed.

"Why did I decide to bring you?" she asked no one in particular, but Brynjolf felt it necessary to give her an answer.

"Because I'm terribly fun."

"You're also the worst," she said, pulling away so that they could keep walking.

Brynjolf joined her, his attention back on the sky. He pointed again after a moment. "Sabre cat."

"I'm going to hit you," Ziris mumbled without looking up.

Brynjolf chuckled again. "All right," he said. "Do you want to talk about something else?"

Ziris thought about it for a moment. "How'd you convince Thrynn to join up?" she asked him.

Brynjolf frowned, and looked sideways at her. "You want to hear about that?"

"Sure," Ziris said with a shrug. "What else is there?"

"Well…" Brynjolf sighed. "I was in the Bee and Barb, and I found him just sitting at the counter. He didn't look too happy, and he only had enough coin to pay for one drink. I figured he'd like a way to make some money, so I talked to him for a bit. He told me about what he used to do, and I asked him if he'd have any problems with thieving."

"Straight out? Really?" Ziris queried in surprise, and it was Brynjolf's turn to shrug.

"People sometimes don't understand what I'm trying to say if I'm vague." Ziris nodded, and Brynjolf went on, "It didn't take long to convince him after that."

"He said that you told him about our "rough patch"," Ziris said, and Brynjolf nodded.

"Lying to recruits isn't the smartest way to go." He reached up and rubbed the scar on his cheek. "I learned that the hard way."

Ziris remembered that all too vividly. The recruit had been halfway through the Flagon when he realized what he was walking into, and he'd pulled his knife on Brynjolf. It'd taken Dirge and Delvin to pull him off. Afterwards, Brynjolf had kept bleeding until they'd poured a healing potion directly onto the cut, and still it'd been too deep to ever truly go away.

Now, instead of telling people that story when they asked, he simply told them he'd been attacked by a angry lover. Ziris didn't know why he thought that was better, but she imagined it was a man thing.

"I showed him around," she said, "and he seemed… relaxed. Do you remember when Rune first came down into the cistern?"

Brynjolf grinned at the reminder. "Lad looked ready to piss himself the first time he met Mercer," he said, and Ziris giggled.

"Then he was worried that he'd made Mercer mad afterwards, even though he hadn't done anything, and you had to tell him that Mercer alway looks angry, and to just ignore it!"

"Poor Rune," Brynjolf said with a final chuckle.

"I think he managed to settle in, with your help," Ziris replied, kicking a stray rock off the road. It went tumbling into the trees.

"He still has a lot to learn," Brynjolf commented, "but yes, I think he's finding his place."

Ziris studied the ground as they went on walking. "How much further?"

"Another half-hour, maybe," Brynjolf said. "Not so bad, considering all the times you had to stop in order to attack me."

"Sorry," she started, "but sometimes you ask for it."

Brynjolf shook his head, but didn't say anything more.

They did make it to Ivarstead within the half-hour, and Ziris examined the small town for a moment, before leaning up to speak to him, quietly, "We're looking for some fancy jeweled vase that one of the farmers got as an inheritance."

"Which one?" Brynjolf asked.

"Well, I don't know that, but it's inside the farmhouse somewhere, probably," Ziris said. She glanced at him. "Do you think you can keep them distracted outside while I sneak inside and take it?"

Brynjolf grinned. "Of course I can," he said. "You're actually making me do something, when you could easily get inside without a distraction?"

"Why else would I have brought you along, if not to make this easier?" Ziris queried, and then she started towards the Fellstar Farm, Brynjolf taking a different route so that he could intercept the homeowners in their field.

Ziris sidled around to the front of the house as Brynjolf started speaking with one of the farmers, asking them if they needed any help. The farmer responded that they could always use some help.

Ziris glanced over her shoulder to make sure there wasn't anyone passing by, and then she faced the door, reaching out to test it.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked, and Ziris blinked before pushing her way inside, quietly.

After the door had closed behind her, she took a glance around. It was a typical farmhouse, she saw, one room. The vase couldn't be hiding anywhere she couldn't easily find.

She started to poke around, in shelves and in chests. No vase made an appearance, however, and Ziris started to panic. She needed to find it, quick, before Brynjolf ran out of farm tasks to do.

She turned around, trying to think of where a farmer might hide something expensive, if not out in the open.

Then she spotted the board.

Ziris walked over to it. The wooden board on the floor was sticking up, slightly, as though someone had removed it, and put something beneath it before putting it back. Crouching down next to it, Ziris was easily able to pry it back up, and she grinned when she spotted the jeweled vase sitting beneath it.

She quickly grabbed it, and shoved the board back into place. Without looking back, she scurried out of the house and snuck off into the bushes on the side. Using them as cover, she moved around to the back of the house, and glanced around the field for Brynjolf.

He was busy at work, hoeing away at the ground while a woman followed behind him, sprinkling seeds. Ziris laughed to herself at the sight of Brynjolf doing manual labor, and she settled in to watch.

He kept working for a while longer, until he'd satisfied the farmer's wishes. They parted with her handing out a few coins, and Brynjolf grinning at her before walking away.

Ziris slid out of the bushes and went around the opposite way so that she would meet him in front of the house.

Brynjolf spotted her before she could scare him, unfortunately, and he said, "Ten septims for a half-hour of work!" he said, pleased. "Maybe I should leave thievery behind and start a homestead."

"Yes, because manual labor suits you so well," Ziris said, reaching up to mop off some of the sweat on his forehead. "It's late; do you think we can make it back to Riften before nightfall?"

Brynjolf didn't even bother looking up at the sky before he responded: "No, I think we should stay here," he told her, taking the vase. "Ugh, this isn't very pretty, is it?"

"No, but apparently it's worth a lot of money," Ziris responded, taking it back. "Come on, let's head to the inn."

* * *

 **Y'know, I wrote the last half _after_ I'd thought I'd finished the chapter, because I realized the way I'd written it didn't flow well. **

**So this last half, and the first half of next week's chapter, are both really poorly written.**

 **Forgive me.**


	7. Under New Management

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

* * *

 **I liked this chapter before I rewrote the beginning after separating it from the previous chapter.**

 **And now I hate this chapter.**

 **That's just how it goes, I suppose.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: You were the only reviewer this week! That makes me kind of sad, but it's okay, because I least I had one. I'm glad you're curious, because let me tell ya, it's gonna get weird.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Under New Management**

* * *

Ziris watched as Rune stuck his dagger into the training dummy, and she frowned a bit. "No," she said, moving forward to help him. "Don't do it like that. If you were fighting a real person, your dagger would get stuck, and you wouldn't be able to get it back."

She pulled the weapon from the dummy, and handed it back to him, then stepped backwards. She gestured to her chest, just below her breast. "You need to strike _here_."

Rune had gone from concentrating to uncomfortable in about two seconds. "Maybe I should ask Brynjolf about this," he said, rubbing at his neck.

Ziris rolled her eyes. "Rune, I'm trying to help you," she said. "How are you supposed to learn if the only thing you can think about is how I'm a woman?"

She'd decided to waste away the day for as long as she could by training Rune. Mercer had told everyone that, later on in the afternoon, he'd finally, _finally_ be picking a new second-in-command.

Six months ago, Molgrom had been arrested, again, and he'd never come back to the cistern. Ever since then, Mercer had been busy trying to run the Guild on his own. Ziris knew that he was struggling. Thankfully, she'd been around to assist him with menial tasks that he'd normally pass on to a second-in-command.

She took them on with pride, and not without the slightest bit of satisfaction, knowing the Mercer recognized how good she was at what they did, and how committed.

"It's not about that," Rune said with a sigh. He took the dagger from her, and faced the dummy. "It's just that… you're a lot better than me, and sometimes you… you act like it."

Ziris frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that… you get upset, like I should already know some of the things you're teaching me," Rune explained, flinching as though he thought she was going to hit him.

"Did I do that just now?" she asked, stepping away.

"Well, no," Rune replied, "but… your voice started to change, like you were about to."

Ziris exhaled. "I'm sorry, Rune," she said. "Maybe it's just… something I learned from Mercer." She offered him a smile. "If you don't want me to teach you anymore, then I won't."

"I mean, I'd like you to," he said, "and you have been for a while, it's just…" He shrugged, and she nodded in understanding.

"I get it," she replied. "It's all right, really. Maybe I should try to change my methods, anyhow."

Rune glanced down at the dagger, and then he turned around to face her again. "Show me one more time?" he suggested, and Ziris grinned before gesturing to the same spot she had before, this time on his chest instead.

"Right here," she said, softly. "It's a quick kill, and the blade comes out really easily afterwards."

Rune nodded, and then he frowned. "I've never had to kill anyone on a job before," he said.

Ziris lifted her shoulders. "It's always good to know a few tricks, just in case someone ever comes after you," she told him. "It's helpful to have a few things in mind."

"I guess so," Rune agreed after a moment, and then he turned to the dummy once more. Without hesitating, he stuck his dagger into the same spot on the dummy's chest as Ziris had showed him, and she nodded when he looked at her for approval.

"Good," she said. She then glanced towards the door of the training room.

Rune saw her do this, and he grinned, pulling his dagger back out of the dummy. "You're really excited for the announcement, aren't you?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I think he's going to pick me," she said, "but…"

"Why wouldn't he pick you?" Rune questioned. "I mean, you're the best thief in the Guild, better than him, even."

"No I'm not," Ziris told him. "You only think so because I go on jobs, and bring in money." She looked at Rune. "If Mercer still did jobs, I don't think I'd be even close to surpassing him."

"But he doesn't do jobs," Rune said.

Ziris considered that for a moment, and then she laughed. "I guess you have a point," she agreed. "I'll see you later, all right?"

"Sure," Rune said, and then he started to slash at the training dummy.

Ziris left him to do so, and she walked out into the cistern. Mercer glanced up from whatever he was doing at his desk as she did so, and he gestured her over.

Ziris eagerly walked to the desk, and paused in front of it. Mercer frowned at her. "Why do you look so happy?"

"No reason," she said quickly. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to hear about the Markarth job," Mercer responded, "the one you went on for Delvin."

"Oh!" Ziris grinned, and shrugged. "It wasn't anything, really. Some important fellow needed me to steal back something that was stolen from him. It was over and done with quickly."

"No trouble?" Mercer queried, and Ziris shook her head. "Delvin tells me that, because you did the job well, we now have a friend in Markarth."

Ziris nodded. "That was the point," she said. "Delvin's been trying to get me jobs in the same holds so that someone will notice, and want to see what we can do for themselves, to know if the Guild is worth their support."

"He hasn't said anything of the sort to me," Mercer commented dryly.

"Maybe he wanted to surprise you." Mercer frowned at her, and she smiled back. "I'm only kidding. This is the first time it's worked, so maybe he was waiting for a good one to tell you about."

Mercer didn't exactly look convinced, but he didn't say anything more about it. "When it's time to make the announcement, will you bring everyone in here for me?" he asked.

"Sure," Ziris replied. "Too lazy to do it yourself?"

"I have other things to worry about," he told her, looking back down at his work. "Go start gathering everyone now."

She nodded, and turned away from the desk to do so. She decided to start in the Flagon, first, since everyone in the cistern would notice if Mercer stood and walked to the center of the room.

She pushed her way through the door and down the passage to the Flagon, where she found Delvin, Vex, and Tonila. Brynjolf was there, too, but she ignored him.

"Mercer's making the announcement soon," she said to everyone in general.

Delvin groaned. "Doesn't he know I just ordered a mug?" he asked, and Ziris shook her head.

"I don't think so, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't care."

"Take it with you," Vekel sighed when Delvin looked at him.

Gleefully, Devin took another swallow and picked up the mug, lifting it in Vekel's direction as a toast. "Thank you, good man," Delvin said, and then he looked around at everyone. "The only reason this is happening is because of the curse."

"Oh, knock that off," Vex ordered, slamming shut the book she'd been reading.

"What curse?" Dirge asked, coming into the bar from where he'd been positioned outside of it.

"You know, Nocturnal's mad at us for whatever reason," Delvin said, "and so she keeps getting Molgrom arrested so that Mercer has to either pick a new second, or do everything by hisself." He took another drink. "At least Mercer's makin' the right choice."

Vex shook her head at him. "There's no Nocturnal," she said, "and there's no curse."

"Sure there is," Delvin said. "Why else have we had such wretched luck? Why is the Guild going broke?" He gave Vex a look. "Not even you can explain that, Vex."

"I don't have to explain it," Vex said sourly. "Everyone has bad luck because no one knows what they're doing. The Guild is going broke because no one _knows what they're doing_."

Ziris sighed to herself, and turned to head back into the cistern, leaving them to argue and waste time.

She crossed over towards the hall leading to the training room, but she didn't have to go very far. Rune was already coming out of the room, a towel in hand.

"I know," he said before Ziris could speak. "Thrynn came in and told me. Overheard you at the desk." He grinned. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Ziris replied.

Rune continued on past her, and Ziris turned to Thrynn, who'd just emerged from the training room himself. He noticed the grin on her face, and shook his head.

"Stop thinking you've already gotten it," he said to her.

"Why should I?" she questioned, following him down the hall as he went by. "Who else is he going to pick, Thrynn?"

"Uh, Delvin? Vex? Maybe even Brynjolf, if he really wants to piss you off," Thrynn replied without looking back.

"He knows I'm the right one for the job," Ziris decided as they walked out of the hall back into the cistern. "He can't pretend that I haven't worked for it, tried to prove myself. If he doesn't pick me, I'll never forgive him, and he knows it."

"Does he?" Thrynn asked her.

Ziris decided not to respond.

They walked to the center of the cistern, where Mercer was already waiting. Like Ziris had assumed, the other thieves had gathered around when they saw him stand, and they were all milling about, pretending not to be interested.

Ziris stood next to Thrynn and looked around at everyone. The only one who she didn't see was Tonilia, and she rolled her eyes to herself. Tonilia could get away with anything, because she was so good at her job. No doubt she knew that, and was using it to her advantage, probably because she didn't really care who was in charge.

The most recent addition to the Guild, who called herself 'Sapphire', stood off to the edge of the crowd, looking rather bored. She'd joined up three months prior, after she'd been found poking around the Black-Briar estate. Pretty risky, Ziris had thought when she'd first heard, but Sapphire's only real skill, that she'd noticed, was her sharp tongue.

Vex and Delvin stood near Mercer, eyeing the surrounding thieves and exchanging glances with one another. Delvin offered Vex his tankard, and she frowned at him in response.

The rest of the thieves stood about in front of them, speaking quietly to one another as they waited for Tonilia to show up. They numbered only seven, now, after Etienne Rarnis had gone off on a job and never returned. No one talked about him, and Ziris decided that they'd all marked him as a deserter and decided they were better off without him.

Tonila finally made an appearance, coming through the door leading to the Flagon. Mercer's sharp gaze settled on her as she joined Brynjolf where he was standing a good distance away from Ziris.

She and Brynjolf had had a bit of a falling out, the month prior. It was a stupid one, to be sure, and Ziris missed him, despite herself. She'd decided earlier on in the day that, after the ceremony, she would try to speak with him, and amend what had happened between the two of them. Knowing Brynjolf, it wouldn't take much work, and they would at least be on speaking terms again, if not completely 'on', as they had been prior to the fight.

She managed to catch his eye without meaning to, and, because of her excitement for what was about to occur, she smiled at him. Brynjolf's eyebrows drew together, and he turned his gaze away without returning it.

Ziris lost her grin, and scowled.

 _Whatever_ , she decided flippantly. _I'll let it go. Obviously, he's not in a great mood_.

"Now that everyone is here…" She turned her attention to Mercer, who was still giving Tonilia a biting look. "... perhaps I am free to begin?"

Tonilia offered him a look of her own. Mercer disregarded the glare and looked around at everyone else.

"As we all know, the prior second-in-command has, in fact, been in the Riften jail for quite some time," he went on. "As six months have passed since Molgrom's arrest, it is safe to assume he will not be returning to his duties any time soon, and… for reasons that do not tread beyond the fact that there is quite a bit to be done, and I cannot do it all alone, I have decided it is time to name Molgrom's replacement as second-in-command of the Guild."

Ziris couldn't help herself. She leaned up onto her toes and back down again, hands fluttering excitedly by her sides. Thrynn reached up and put a hand on her shoulder in order to calm her down, and she settled beside him, inhaling and hoping no one could hear the eager thrum of her heart.

Mercer exhaled, clearly bored with the whole situation. "As Guild Master, it is my duty to appoint a second-in-command worthy of leading the Guild, and I have made my decision after much debate."

Ziris wriggled a bit beneath Thrynn's hand. _It couldn't have been too difficult to choose_ , she thought to herself. After all, who better than the very thief he trained?

Mercer examined the gathered thieves for a moment, his gaze passing right over her, as though he barely noticed she was there. That didn't bother her very much; he didn't want to give it away before the dramatic unveiling, most like.

"Brynjolf will be the new second-in-command of the Thieves Guild," he concluded, without much drama at all.

Ziris stopped all her wiggling, and she was faintly aware of her heart thudding to a sudden halt as well. She watched as Brynjolf stepped forward to the applause of the rest of the Guild, and shook Mercer's hand. She could see the thieves clapping, but she could not hear them, for something inside of her had cracked open, and was screaming.

She saw Mercer give Brynjolf an affectionate pat on the shoulder, and Brynjolf grinned back before turning around to face everyone else. He said something to them, spreading out his hands, and she saw everyone laugh at whatever it had been. Ziris took a step backwards as Mercer stepped forward to dismiss everyone, and the thieves all walked off in different directions.

She watched as Mercer led Brynjolf towards the Guild Master's desk, speaking to him as they went.

 _That's… that's supposed to be me_ , she thought vacantly. _Why isn't it me_?

Someone touched her shoulder, and she jumped as the screaming in her head came to an abrupt stop, ending as quickly as it had began. She turned, and found Thrynn gazing at her in concern.

"You all right?" he asked, tilting his head, and she shook her own, surprised that she was able to hear him. She took a step backwards, staggering slightly, and then she turned on her heel and fled, darting up the ladder of the secret entrance and out into the fresh air of Riften.

She stopped, leaning against the wall of the city, and let out a furious screech, loud enough to wake the dead buried in the tombs around her.

Time and again, she'd proven herself to the Guild, and to Mercer. Time and again, her skills had been recognized by them all. She'd worked for them, trained with them, done her best to help them bring the Guild back to what it had used to be.

So why was she here, now, screaming as loudly as she could, while Brynjolf was down in the cistern, learning how to lead the Guild? Why was he learning how to do the job she'd been _groomed_ for since her arrival? Why, in the names of all the Gods, had he _accepted_ , when he knew that she'd wanted to lead the Guild for almost as long as she'd deemed herself capable of doing so?

Ziris let out one last yell of frustration, and then she sank to her knees in the damp grass, hanging her head between her hands.

 _I deserved it. The job was meant for me. I'm the one who should be down there with Mercer._

Obviously, however, luck had not favored her, as it hadn't been favoring any of the thieves in the years following Gallus's death. The one time it had hit her the hardest, however, was the one time she'd wished, _just once_ , that it would've left her alone.

Of course it wouldn't have. It was _bad luck_ , hitting at the most inopportune times. Why did it have to hit her, though? Why couldn't it have decided to bother Brynjolf instead? He _didn't deserve the job_ , so why had good luck seemed to favor him?

Maybe Delvin's ridiculous nonsense about the Guild being cursed was right. Maybe this Nocturnal, whoever that was, really was angry with them all. And maybe, just maybe, Ziris had been given the worst of the lot, for reasons that had yet to reveal themselves to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled sharply to push down the rush of angry tears she could feel welling up behind her eyes. Crying and screaming weren't going to get her anywhere. She knew that, had known that for a long time.

The only thing she could do now was prove to Mercer, and everyone else, that he had made a _drastic_ mistake in picking Brynjolf over her.

And she would do so by being the best Gods' damned thief the Guild had ever seen, despite the bad luck that seemed to have settled over all of them.

She would _prove_ to them all that the position she'd worked for, and had been _made for_ , had passed over her unfairly. And maybe, just maybe, things would finally go the way she'd meant for them to.

She wiped at her eyes, and climbed to her feet, and glanced towards a group of shadows near the shrine of Talos. They seemed to waver a bit, as though they were wishing her luck, and she nodded to them, then turned and headed back down into the cistern.


	8. Bound and Unbound

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

* * *

 **So, now we're sort of out of the backstory part, and it's stepping over into the current game situation.**

 **Literally. This chapter is the start of the video game from Ziris's perspective, plus the repercussions.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses (There's a lot of them, this week! Hurray!):**

 **Lydia: Brynjolf probably knew he was going to be picked to be second-in-command, and didn't want to be close enough to Ziris that she could easily punch him in the face. Hopefully, they can sort things out. Enjoy!**

 **Nina: I'm going to respond to your review on Chapter 6 here, even though Chapter 7 was already posted. I'm glad you thought it was good, and thank you! I hope you enjoy these next ones, too!**

 **Manu: Thank you! I appreciate that. And, hey, if Brynjolf and Ziris are meant to be, then they will be. You'll just have to wait and see what's in store for the two of them, I guess.**

 **Mia78: I was trying very hard to uncapitalize the 'm' so that it would actually match your name, but my keyboard wouldn't let me. I'm sorry! Anyhow, thank you very much! I don't plan on stopping, mostly because I already have the Fiction completed, and there'd be no point. Stick around, if you like. I enjoy hearing from you.**

 **Guest: Thank you, anonymous friend! I hope you're around to see this update, too!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Bound and Unbound**

* * *

Ziris's head was aching when she finally opened her eyes. Her immediate response was to try and pull a weapon from its scabbard, but she couldn't move her hands. Instead, she could only sit, helpless, as the carriage she was tied up in the back of moved along down the forest road at a slow, slow pace.

Across from her was a young Imperial man with dark hair, who was also tied up. He was wearing a strange combination of steel and leather armor, and he blinked green eyes at her when he saw she was awake.

"Were you partying with the mages, too?" he asked quietly, and Ziris frowned at him in confusion.

"No, I was stealing a horse," she said, and the man let out a breath through his nose.

"Better than me, I guess," he said. "I'm a murderer."

"Lovely," Ziris replied, glancing around again. Forest road, carriages, Imperial soldier driver, more carriages ahead of and behind them. Definitely a caravan. Of… prisoners?

"I don't imagine they'll kill you for stealing a horse," the man said to her. "Me, though? And the others? We're all going to lose our heads."

Ziris swallowed, and she had a sudden urge to reach up and grab her neck. She couldn't, however, because her wrists were bound.

"Where are they taking us?" she asked, and then man shook his head.

"Don't know. I woke up a few minutes ago." He nodded towards the carriage behind their own. "Stormcloaks. Something tells me we were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That's been happening to me a lot lately," Ziris mumbled under her breath.

"The name's Hainin Marshal," the man said to her.

"Ziris," she answered, struggling to turn and see the bounds on her wrists. If it was rope, she had a better chance of getting free.

"What were you doing, stealing a horse?"

"What were _you_ doing, killing a mage?" Ziris retorted.

"No need to get defensive," Hainin said, frowning at her. "We're all prisoners here."

"Shut up back there," the soldier driving their carriage ordered.

Ziris glanced up, and saw that they were about to pass through the gates of a city. She frowned when she saw the Imperials dotting the place, including the one on the guard bridge above them as they went through the gate.

An Imperial dressed in fancier armor sat on horseback a few feet away, speaking to an Altmer on a horse of her own. Ziris recognized the robes the Altmer wore as robes of the Thalmor.

 _Great_.

Their carriage came to a halt beside two others, and one more followed after theirs. Ziris saw that they had stopped in front of a tower, and she saw the headsman block waiting for them. It looked like none of the prisoners were leaving with their heads.

 _Wonderful_.

Hainin sniffed. "Sorry," he said to her. "I didn't know the Imperials were doing genocide today."

Ziris glared at him as their driver hopped down from his seat and walked around to the back of the carriage. "Out, both of you," he said to them, gesturing with his head.

Hainin stood first, and hopped out of the carriage ahead of her. Ziris followed more slowly, wary. She needed to figure out a way to make it through this without losing her head. Mercer would have it on his own, once she did.

Hainin and Ziris were shoved away from their carriage and towards the next one over. Hainin seemed to be impressed by the prisoners on that one, or, at least, by one of the prisoners.

"They captured Ulfric Stormcloak," he said, watching as a burly Nord in a fur cloak was marched past them.

Ziris didn't care who they had captured. She wanted to get un-captured.

She and Hainin were pushed along, and brought to a halt beside a young woman with golden hair, who glanced over at them in worry before facing the Nord Imperial soldier ahead of them.

"These three aren't on the list, captain," he said to the woman beside him.

"So take their names and and send them to the block," she barked, and stalked off to join a few of the other soldiers.

The Nord exhaled through his nose, and turned to Hainin. "Your name, please."

"Why? Do you plan on giving us headstones?" Hainin inquired sweetly.

"His name is Hainin Marshal," Ziris said before the Nord could speak. He looked at her, and she sighed. "I'm Ziris Coldwater."

"Right," the Nord said, making a mark on his parchment. He turned to the last of the prisoners, the young woman. "Who are you?"

"Cry Silverworthy," she murmured, and the Nord marked down her name as well.

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman," he said to her.

"I've realized," she agreed quietly.

The Nord glanced between the three of them, and then gestured towards the line of Stormcloaks near the headsman's block.

"I'm sorry about all this," he told them. "Truly, I am. You were all in the wrong place at the wrong time."

None of them responded, although Hainin looked like he wanted too. Instead, the young Imperial turned and marched off towards the line of Stormcloaks, with Ziris and Cry behind him.

Once again, Ziris looked around for something, anything that would aid her escape. She was remembering one of Mercer's first lessons, after she'd been caught stealing in the Marketplace, and almost take to Mistveil Keep's prison: _"Even when you think there's nothing to help you out of a situation, there's always something. Remember that, and you won't get caught like a skeever in a trap next time, and I won't have to bail you out."_

 _Well, Mercer. I'm a skeever, and that block is my trap_ , she thought to herself. _Where's my something_?

Silence fell over the group, and then the Imperial that Ziris had noticed on horseback with the Thalmor walked up to the man that Hainin had referred to as Ulfric Stormcloak, head of the idiotic war that Skyrim was locked in.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero."

 _Oh, so we're in Helgen._

"But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne," the Imperial went on.

Stormcloak, who had a rag tied over his mouth, merely grunted in response.

"You started this war!" the Imperial exclaimed. "Plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now I'm going to put you down, and restore the peace."

 _This guy must be a general._

Before he could say anything more, a strange noise echoed around them, bouncing off the Throat of the World, and another smaller mountain on the other side of the city.

"What was that?" the Nord who had taken their names asked.

The general shook his head. "It was nothing." He turned to the captain who'd been standing with the Nord. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" she replied, a little too exuberantly. She looked at the priestess who was standing beside her. "Give them their last rights," she ordered.

The priestess raised her arms. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the a Eight Divines upon you -"

"For the love of Talos…" A red haired Stormcloak stalked forward. "Shut up, and let's get this over with."

The priestess frowned at him, and the captain shook her head. "As you wish."

The Stormcloak walked up to the headsman's block. "Come on, I haven't got all morning," he said shortly.

The captain pushed him down to a crouch in front of it, and used her boot to kick his neck onto the block.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" the Stormcloak asked.

The headsman, who was dressed in dark clothing and a black hood, raised his two-handed axe and brought it down heavily onto the Stormcloak's neck. Ziris flinched as head separated from body, and fell heavily into the basket made solely for that purpose.

"Ooh, gruesome," Hainin said from beside her.

"As fearless in death, as he was in life," a blond Stormcloak murmured from the other side of Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Next, the Imperial in the mismatched armor!" the captain said, pointing to Hainin.

The sound came again, this time louder, and more clearly. It sounded like a… bear roar, almost, but Ziris knew it couldn't be.

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" the Nord Imperial asked, looking at General Tullius.

"I said, next prisoner!" the captain growled, turning her glare to Hainin.

He seemed taken aback. "What? Me? Why not one of these Stormcloaks, or her?"

Ziris shot him a glare as he nudged her forward with his shoulder. "Bastard," she grumbled. "I don't want to die today, either." She gestured with her head towards Hainin. " _He's_ the murderer."

"Hey!" Hainin exclaimed. "It was an act of defense!"

"Sure it was," Ziris responded, rolling her eyes.

"Listen, lady -"

"For the love of the Gods, _I'll_ go next," the young Nord woman, Cry, exclaimed, walking forward to the block. Hainin and Ziris exchanged a surprised glance as she lowered herself to her knees, and placed her neck on the block. "Make it quick, okay?" she asked the headsman.

The big man was getting ready with his axe, when the sound came again, very clearly a roar this time. Ziris saw it fly over the mountains, but she wasn't positive she'd actually seen anything until the Nord exclaimed: "What in Oblivion is that?"

"Sentries, what do you see?" the captain called.

"It's in the clouds!" someone shouted back.

The ground shook, then, however, and the beast that Ziris had seen fly out from over the mountain landed on top of the tower.

"By the Gods," she whispered, gazing up at it.

"Dragon!" the priestess shrieked.

The black-scaled dragon with piercing red eyes let out a roar, which knocked the headsman over entirely. Panic broke out around the courtyard where the executions were taking place.

Ziris decided to take this dragon appearance as her something.

Without looking back, she sprinted away in the direction their carriages had come from, hoping she would find the city gates. Instead, she found only smoke. The dragon had begun its attack.

Coughing, and blinking her streaming eyes, Ziris struggled to see through the thick smoke. She could hear screams, as well as orders being shouted to protect the townsfolk. She imagined that she and the other prisoners had already been forgotten about.

"Ziris!" She blinked and turned when she heard her name being called. Through the smoke, she spotted Hainin, waving his hand at her. She hurried towards him, a spur of the moment decision, and was grateful she had when he pointed to a hole in the city wall. "We can get out through there!" he said, and then covered his mouth and nose with his hand. Ziris didn't know how he'd gotten his bindings undone, but she decided it wasn't important.

Instead, she ducked and hurried towards the hole, dodging a burning bale of hay, and a body as she did so. She could feel Hainin right on her heels, panting heavily.

Ziris dropped into a roll and sailed through the hole ahead of him, coming out into the clear air on the other side of the city. Hainin followed a moment later, and the two quickly ran away from the burning city, leaving behind the screaming Imperials, Stormcloaks, and citizens.

When they were far enough up the path where they could no longer hear the screams, but could hear the dragon and see the smoke, they stopped.

Ziris's lungs were on fire, and she bent over, trying to regulate her breathing. She looked over at Hainin, and saw he was covered in soot, and there was a burn mark on one of his shoulders. Still, they were alive, and that was what mattered.

"Thank you," she said through her heavy breaths. "I don't think I would have made it out of there, had you not called to me."

"Don't think twice about it," Hainin answered. He straightened, and inhaled deeply. "I figured I needed to do my good deed for the month." He grinned at her. "You want help out of those?"

Ziris nodded, and turned around to let him reach her bindings. Hainin easily undid them, and Ziris brought her wrists around to her front and rubbed them. "Thanks."

"No problem," Hainin said. He glanced around. "Where do you come from?"

"Riften, and the Thieves Guild," Ziris replied, glancing at him.

"Riften, huh?" Hainin considered it for a moment. "You mind, then, if I travel with you? Riften's better than Whiterun for me, at the moment."

Ziris was prepared to decline, but then she heard the roar of the dragon, and she decided that maybe traveling alone with a dragon on the loose wasn't the best choice.

So, she nodded. "Yeah, that's fine." She looked around. "They took my weapons. Dammit."

"What are you? Swordsman? Bowman? I guess its swords-woman or bow-woman," Hainin said, grinning.

Ziris shook her head. "I'm pretty good with a bow, but my real talents lie in dual-wielding." She turned and started down the road, hoping they would find a sign somewhere down the way that would point them in the right direction.

"Ooh, so you're pretty deadly, for a thief," Hainin commented, jogging to catch up with her.

"I suppose I am," Ziris agreed, glancing at him. "So don't make me angry." Hainin held up his hands, and faced forward again. "What do you do?"

"Nothing," Hainin admitted, "and that's the truth of it. I'm an Imperial, but Skyrim is my home. It hasn't been very kind to me, though."

"I've had my own problems," Ziris told him. She smiled to herself, and glanced at Hainin. "You just have to find someplace where you belong, and everything works out in the end."

"You sound sure about that," Hainin commented.

"It's because I am," Ziris informed him. "Come on. Maybe we'll get over the border by nightfall, if we move quickly enough."

They picked up their paces, as she suggested. To avoid the snowy mountain passes, they took the northern road. It was a longer journey, but they didn't have the resources to survive a trek through the mountains.

They crossed into the Rift just as night was falling, and Ziris suggested they keep going until they reached Ivarstead, which was the closest settlement to where they were. Hainin agreed, and they continued walking.

Ivarstead glowed in the distance as the moons started to rise, and Ziris glanced upwards. The sky was beautiful, one of her favorite things about traveling at night. If she wasn't so exhausted, she would have just kept going.

When they reached Ivarstead, the two headed right for the Vilemyr Inn, and walked in. Wilhelm, the innkeeper, was standing behind the bar, looking ready for bed. He looked up when Ziris and Hainin walked in, however, and sighed.

"Need a room, then?" he asked Ziris, who had stayed at the inn more than once.

"Please," Ziris replied, tossing a coin purse onto the bar. "We've had a long day." Wilhelm hefted the purse, and nodded towards the room with two beds. Ziris nodded gratefully to him, and waved her hand for Hainin to follow her.

The two crept into the room, claimed a bed, and were fast asleep before one or the other could say good night.

* * *

When Ziris woke up, she found the other bed in the bedroom vacant, which made her very angry. How dare he leave without repaying her for the room?

After she'd thought about it, however, she realized that she owed Hainin her life. An unpaid half for a room at the inn didn't seem like an appropriate repayment, but it was what he'd chosen.

She sighed to herself before shuffling into her boots, and then into the main room of the inn. Wilhelm offered her free breakfast, and Ziris took it without arguing.

When she was finished with her eggs and fried ham, she thanked Wilhelm, and ducked out of the inn onto the road that would take her to Riften.

She was already doing her best to explain herself to Mercer in her head. She was struggling to come up with something he'd believe. She knew that she needed _something_ , although she didn't know how forgiving Mercer would be. She was a senior thief, and getting caught in the way she had was stupid, and showed sloppiness. Stealing a _horse_? Really?

Mercer was going to be _furious_.

When she reached Riften two hours later, she was almost afraid to go down to the cistern. So, she was grateful for the distraction she found waiting for her as soon as she walked into the city.

Sapphire had cornered a Redguard on the bridge, and was yelling at him about something as Ziris approached.

"I'm really getting tired of your excuses," she was saying. "When you borrowed the money, you said you'd pay me back on time and for double the usual fee."

"I know I did," the Reguard, whom Ziris recognized as a worker at the Riften Stables named Shadr, replied. "How was I supposed to know the ship would get robbed?"

"Next time, keep your plans quieter, and nothing would have happen to it," Sapphire informed him.

The Redguard gaped at her. "What? Are you telling me you robbed it?" It certainly sounded that way to Ziris. "Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Look, Shadr. Last warning. Pay up or else. All I care about is the gold. The rest is your problem." Sapphire glanced at Ziris as she walked closer, but before she could speak, the young Nord turned and headed for the Bee and Barb.

Ziris sighed to herself, and walked over to Shadr instead. "Hi," she greeted. "You work at the stables, right?"

"Huh? Oh, yes," Shadr replied, looking up at her in confusion. "Hofgrir took me in when I arrived in Riften about a year ago. Taught me everything he knows. Horses are my life. Back in Hammerfell, I helped my family raise horses at our farm." He glanced down again. "I hope to open my own stables someday, but I think it's going to take a lot longer than I expected."

Ziris nodded towards the inn. "I overheard your conversation. Seems like you're in trouble."

Shadr nodded helplessly. "I owe her a great deal of money, and I think she cheated me. I don't know what to do."

"Tell me the details," Ziris suggested, crossing her arms. She decided that dealing with this problem would be easier than going to the cistern. After all, she was already off schedule. What was the point anymore, other than her inevitable scolding and possible maiming?

"I was able to work out a deal with the stables in Whiterun to sell me some of their tack and harnesses," Shadr explained. "I borrowed some gold from Sapphire for the shipment, but it got robbed before it even arrived."

Ziris rolled her eyes. So that was the 'job' Sapphire had been away on for almost a week.

"Now, she wants her money back, and if I don't pay her, I think she's going to kill me," Shadr concluded.

"Well, I can promise you that won't be happening. I'll go talk to her, see if I can clear things up," Ziris told him.

"Oh, thank you," Shadr said in relief.

Ziris walked away from him and into the Bee and Barb. Sapphire was leaning against the wall beside the door, and she glared at Ziris as she entered.

"Want to tell me about it?" Ziris inquired, leaning beside her.

"It's simple," Sapphire began. "I lent him some gold, he promised to pay me back, and now he says he's broke. End of story."

"No, it's not, because we both know that _you're_ the reason he's broke," Ziris replied. "Forget about the debt, Sapphire, or Mercer will hear about you causing problems from me."

Sapphire's attention snapped to her. "You wouldn't."

"Is that something you'd bet on?"

The younger thief glanced around the inn for a moment before snorting. "Fine, I guess I made enough off the shipment anyway. I have better uses of my time than threatening stable hands." She rolled her eyes. "Tell Shadr he doesn't owe me anything."

Ziris smiled pleasantly. "Good girl. I'll see you down in the cistern."

Sapphire glared at her as Ziris strolled back out of the Bee and Barb and towards where Shadr still sat on the bench on the bridge.

"Well?" he asked nervously.

"The debt's forgotten. Everything's been cleared up," Ziris said to him.

"By the Eight! You talked her into it?" Ziris nodded, and the stable hand grinned. "I don't know what to say. I didn't think anyone in Riften cared what happened to me. Thank you." He reached into the bag sitting beside him on the bench and handed her the white potion he pulled out of it. "I've been saving this. I thought I might need it if Sapphire came for me, but I guess I don't anymore. You can have it."

"Thank you, Shadr," Ziris said, sliding the potion of invisibility into one of her pouches. "Don't borrow anymore money from thieves, all right?"

Shadr chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Ziris nodded, and walked away from him. She headed for the Temple of Mara, passing by the busy marketplace as she did so. When she saw just how busy it was, it made her think, and come to a pause. Maybe if she brought something extra to Mercer, he'd be more forgiving.

As smoothly as she could, she ducked behind a pile of boxes and sank into a crouch. Knowing the Riften marketplace, and all the best shadows at that time a day, and seeing how busy it was, was going to make stealing something a snatch.

Ziris crept around the edge of the marketplace, darting from shadow to shadow, until she ended up behind Grelka's stall. The woman was busy auctioning off a pricey steel dagger that she claimed to have been forged in the SkyForge itself, and so she didn't notice as Ziris undid the lock on the stall's inner door, grabbed for the shiny Dwarven sword she spotted inside, slid the door closed, and stepped away from the stall into the shadows once more.

When she was out of the sight line of prying gazes, Ziris looked down at her prize. Mercer had been complaining about his blade getting dull. He should appreciate a new one enough not to cut her hand off.

She slid the sword through her belt and rose to her feet. As she continued on her way to the secret entrance, she listened with a small smile to the sounds of Grelka discovered her missing weapon.

Ziris ducked into the hidden entrance to the cistern and shuffled her way down the ladder. When she hit the bottom, she heard laughter coming from her fellow thieves, and she smiled to herself at the sound. She was very happy her head was not lying in a basket in Helgen.

She walked away from the ladder and found Thrynn, Vipir and Niruin all sitting at the wooden table near the fire pit.

"Hey, Z!" Thrynn greeted, waving her over. She spared a glance towards Mercer's desk, saw no one there, and let out a relieved breath before going over to the three men.

Thrynn pulled her down onto the bench beside her. "Where've you been?" he asked, swinging a protective arm around her shoulders.

"In Helgen, almost getting my head first chopped off, and then chomped off. By a dragon," Ziris answered plainly. "How was your week?"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a second," Vipir said, holding up his hands. "Did you say 'dragon'?"

"Yes, and before you say I'm crazy, it attacked Helgen while the Imperials were executing a group of Stormcloaks that included Ulfric Stormcloak," Ziris told them all. "So, I know there are other sources you can talk to about this."

Almost immediately, the three started throwing questions at her, and Ziris struggled to answer them all, even though she'd just watched Mercer walk into the cistern from the Flagon.

"Yes, it was big and scaly and black, and had glowing red eyes, and it Shouted the headsman over," she said quickly, ducking her head as Mercer walked past towards his desk. He'd already noticed her, however, and given her that signature 'You better have a damned good explanation' glare.

"By the Eight," Niruin said under his breath. "If the dragons are coming back… what could that mean?"

"It means the world is going to end," Thrynn declared, allowing Ziris to scoot out from under his arm.

"Not necessarily," Vipir said.

"What else could it mean, idiot?" Thrynn asked him.

"I don't know! But it doesn't have to mean it's the end of the world."

Ziris decided to leave them to their arguing, and she slunk over to Mercer's desk. The Guild Master burned her with his gray glare the whole way, and continued to burn her when she reached him.

"What is your excuse?" he asked her simply. His voice was void of emotion, which Ziris knew was worse than him being angry.

"I was waylaid by a group of Imperials that took me to Helgen and almost cut my head off," she explained quietly. "And… Helgen was attacked by a black dragon with red eyes."

When Mercer didn't speak, she looked up from his desk. He was gazing at her with an unreadable expression, and Ziris slowly reached into the pouch she had put the necklace she was meant to steal from Winterhold in, and placed it on the desk. She then pulled the sword out of her belt, and set that down as well. Putting her arms behind her back, she stepped backwards from the desk a few paces, and waited silently.

Mercer had turned his gaze down to the two items, and slowly reached down and picked up the sword. "What is this?" he asked.

"An 'I'm sorry it took me so long to get back' present," Ziris replied quietly. He glanced up, and she bit her lip. "You were complaining about your other one getting dull."

"Hmmf." Mercer picked up the necklace and put it into the top drawer on his desk, and set the sword back down. "You'll only do jobs in the Rift until I say otherwise."

"Yes, Master Frey," Ziris murmured submissively.

Mercer sighed to himself. "About this dragon…" She glanced up, and he frowned at her. "It was real?"

"Yes, it was real," Ziris said, struggling to keep from rolling her eyes. She turned her arm over, and showed him the small burn she'd received in Helgen. "I know it's not good proof, but…" She closed her eyes and dropped her arm. "I don't know, Mercer. It was like a nightmare coming to life. I relived my parents' deaths." She opened her eyes again, and met his. "You know what I mean?"

"Yes," Mercer agreed after a moment. "I do." He sighed to himself. "It'll have to be seen whether or not this will affect the Guild." He tossed a coin purse across the desk, and Ziris frowned at it, before looking at him.

"Sir?"

"You may have been off schedule, but you did the job, so you get your pay," Mercer replied. He nodded to the sword. "And I appreciate that."

Ziris grinned, and reached out to take the purse. "Thank you, Master Frey," she said to him.

He merely _hmmf_ ed again in response, turning his attention to the open ledger on his desk, clearly dismissing her. She lingered a moment, used to having to tell him about the job and what had happened, but he didn't ask for a tale. She hadn't expected him to; they hadn't spoken together like that for a while.

Ziris trotted back towards where the others sat. She hadn't expected to get off so easily. Mercer wouldn't keep her in the Rift for long, and it wasn't like she enjoyed traveling anyway. Rift jobs paid less, but that was fine. All in all, her punishment didn't really feel like a punishment.

 _Thank you, dragon. And sword._

"So, Ziris, was this dragon like… big big, or was it just big?" Vipir asked her as she retook her seat at the table beside Thrynn.

Ziris chuckled. "It was big big," she told him, reaching for the open bottle of ale sitting on the table. She didn't know whose it was, but she didn't care. Taking a big swig out of it, she watched Brynjolf enter the cistern from the Flagon, and go over to Mercer's desk.

Frustrated, Ziris watched the two of them converse, barely paying attention to the dragon discussion occurring at the table.

Thrynn noticed, and he glanced in the direction she was looking, and then at her.

"Are you still upset over that?" he asked her.

"Of course I am," Ziris grumbled.

"Mercer isn't one to show favorites, Z," Thrynn said. "I know he was your mentor, but Brynjolf has more experience than you."

"Only a year more, and we all know I'm better than Brynjolf," Ziris retorted resentfully. She huffed and slammed the bottle of ale down onto the table. "Why didn't he pick me, Thrynn?"

"Maybe he didn't think you were the best one for the job," Thrynn said in response. She turned her glare to him, and the Nord raised his hands. "The two of you clash heads more often than he does with Brynjolf."

"Not over important stuff," Ziris grumbled, although Thrynn was right. Mercer expected more from her, simply because her training had come from him. When she performed less than spectacularly, the Guild Master was angry about it, and Ziris had suffered through every single one of his scoldings.

But still… because she had been trained by Mercer, he knew that she was the best thief in the Guild, on the same level as if not better than himself.

Ziris frowned to herself. Was that the reason why? Did Mercer think she would try to usurp his position as Guild Master, and take it for herself? Brynjolf would never even consider such a thing, and Mercer knew it, too.

Maybe that was it. Mercer had gone with what, in his mind, was the safest choice.

And that made Ziris feel like dirt. He didn't trust her? After all this time?

She sighed to herself, annoyance giving away to sadness, and she rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her hand. Thrynn glanced at her in confusion, and she shook her head in response. Thrynn looked as though he wanted to press on the matter, but he didn't.

She appreciated that about him. Thrynn wasn't a big talker, but he did know how to listen. That was a useful skill in a thief, and in a person.

Ziris rose from the table. Thrynn glanced up at her as she did so. "Where're you going?" he asked.

"The training room," she responded, taking the bottle of ale with her. Vipir let out a grumbled complaint as she walked away, but she ignored him, finishing off the ale as she went.

When she reached the training room, she set the bottle down on the wall behind the training dummies and backed away from it to the other end of the room. She then pulled her bow off of her back, nocked an arrow in the string, took aim, and let it fly. It sailed across the room and knocked the bottle off of the wall and to the floor, where it shattered.

Ziris smiled to herself and went to retrieve her arrow before pulling off her quiver and setting it down on the floor. She exhaled and glanced towards the training chests. The master lock one seemed to taunt her with its size, and her eyes narrowed as she took it in.

With a huff, she stalked over to it and sat down in front of it, crossing her legs. She pulled out a lockpick and set to picking it.

Her first attempt was rushed, and pushed, and the pick snapped within her first minute of trying. Ziris grunted to herself and pulled out a second pick. This one lasted a bit longer, but it snapped all the same when she attempted to turn the lock to the right, thinking she had it.

Ziris decided that if she didn't get it with the third, she'd just push the damn thing over and leave it like that. She pulled out a third lockpick and set it in place, letting out a breath. She closed her eyes, and tilted her head as she turned the lock, slowly and gently, pausing at every little click, every quiver in the pick. She let it and the dagger she was using become an extension of herself, as she did with her weapons when fighting.

Her eyes fluttered open when she heard a gentle click, barely there, but a sure sign that she almost had it. Biting her tongue, she turned the lock a bit more, and then cursed when her pick snapped.

"That's the third one," a voice said from behind her.

Ziris let out a breath. "I'm doing my best," she replied shortly.

Brynjolf stepped into the training room and paused behind where she was seated, frowning. "You've never broken more than two on the master chest," he commented.

"Why are you talking to me?" Ziris asked without turning to face him.

Brynjolf closed his eyes momentarily. "I miss you," he said, carefully. "We've barely spoken since Mercer made me his second."

Ziris stood up and shrugged past him to get her quiver and bow. "Maybe there's a reason for that."

"Ziris." She paused before she could walk out of the training room, and Brynjolf glanced down at the floor. "I'm glad you're back."

Ziris hesitated a moment, and then she bowed her head. "I'm glad to be back," she responded, and then she ducked out of the training room, leaving Brynjolf alone.

Back in the main room of the cistern, Ziris crossed over to her bed and set her quiver and bow down on top of the chest beside it. As she did so, she heard Mercer speaking with Vex, and she tilted her head a bit to hear what it was he was saying.

"Get in, retrieve the whatever's in the safe in the cellar, and then get out."

"Anything I should be aware of?" Vex inquired.

"Just that Aringoth is a wood elf who went back on a long standing arrangement," Mercer replied. "Maven doesn't want him dead, and neither do I. Understood?"

"Fine," Vex answered. "I'll be back by morning."

"Good."

The blonde walked away from his desk and disappeared up the ladder leading to the surface. Mercer glanced up from his desk and noticed Ziris watching. He frowned at her.

She frowned back and sat down on the edge of her bed, crossing her arms. Mercer seemed to debate something for a moment, and then he gestured with his head for her to join him.

Ziris rose again and walked over to his desk. Mercer gazed at her, and Ziris inhaled.

"Yes?"

"We haven't spoken together for a few months," Mercer said. "Why is that?"

"The truth?" Mercer gave her a look, and Ziris cleared her throat. "Fine. The truth is that I'm feeling resentful."

It took Mercer about three seconds to guess why, and he let out a heavy breath. "Ziris -"

"Why in the Gods' names did you pick Brynjolf over me?" Ziris demanded. "Everyone in the Guild knows I'm better than him, Mercer! I'm a better thief, you and I work together better… I just don't understand."

Mercer's eyes were narrowed. "Half of the reason I chose Brynjolf is because he does not _yell_ at me," he said after a moment. Ziris clenched her fists, and Mercer straightened up, crossing his arms. "The other half of the reason is that I didn't think you could handle the responsibility."

"But -"

"I am aware of your skills, little raven. If you recall, I was the one who taught them to you," Mercer continued. "And I know how you are, your temperament. You were not made for the job I gave to Brynjolf, and you would not have been comfortable in the position. I know this, and that is why I did not give it to you."

"It just makes me think that you don't… appreciate me, and what I've done," Ziris mumbled. "You and I both know that the Guild has been falling to pieces, Mercer. Without me, it'd be dead or close to it." She forced her fists to open. "Do you not care, even a little bit?"

Mercer gazed at her with no expression for a long moment, and then he turned his eyes downwards. "I care," he said slowly. "If I'd made you my second, you wouldn't have any time to do jobs, and that is what I need you for, because that is what you're good at." He tilted his head, looking up at her again. "Right?"

Ziris blinked at him, and then she turned her gaze to the floor. "I suppose…"

"I didn't make you my second not because I don't appreciate you, but because I appreciate what you do very much," Mercer concluded. "Is that fair?"

"It's fair," Ziris sighed, feeling like she'd just been trampled by a giant.

"Good," Mercer said, uncrossing his arms. "That being said, this one-sided feud you've been having with Brynjolf is bad for the Guild, and it needs to stop. I want you to assist him on a job in the Marketplace tomorrow afternoon."

Ziris barely contained a groan before it snuck out of her. She pursed her lips together and gave him a curt nod. Mercer studied her a moment longer, and then he looked down at his ledger again.

"You're dismissed."

Ziris nodded again, turned on her heel, and returned to her bed.

Brynjolf emerged from the hallway leading to the training room. He glanced around briefly and his gaze landed on her. Ziris didn't look away, and Brynjolf visibly exhaled before he started across the cistern towards her. Ziris stiffened at his approach, but she forced herself to look relaxed when he came to a stop in front of her.

"Did Mercer -?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Brynjolf glanced downwards and then back up at her. "All right. Tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," Ziris agreed apathetically, and then she turned her attention to fiddling with a loose string on a button of her armor. She was aware of Brynjolf remaining where he was for a moment, as though he had more to say, but then he turned and walked away.

She allowed her gaze to drift upwards and watched him cross to the door leading to the Flagon. When he was gone, she closed her eyes and reached into her armor to pull out the necklace he'd given her when they'd first met. The emerald shone brightly at her as she gaze down at the ring on the chain, and she sighed to herself, suddenly feeling more sad than anything.

Was it too much to ask for things to go back to the way they'd been?

* * *

 **I've been avidly watching _The Simpsons_ for these past two days, and I have one thing to say: **

**Sorry, Mom, the mob has spoken!**


	9. Luck v Skill

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

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 **This is the most filler chapter that has ever filled. Chapter.**

 **I'm sleepy, and I'm on sinus infection medicine. Sorry.**

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 **Review Responses:**

 **Lydia: Yep, yep, yep! Couldn't write a story without an appearance from the other two OCs, could I? I'm glad you're approving of the Ziris/Mercer dynamic, and, maybe, you will see a better, stronger relationship blossom between Ziris and Brynjolf. I'm not gonna give away any hints, though.**

 **Manu: Wowie! You know Mercer better than I do, which isn't that hard to accomplish, because I don't think I write Mercer very well at all. I'm glad you understand his plan, because I didn't even think about it before writing it down. Also, yes, Brynjolf and Ziris are now separated on not only a relationship level, but also on a professional level. Maybe they'll reconcile sometime soon? We'll just have to wait and see!**

 **Guest: Technically, all three characters _are_ considered Dragonborns, but, in my world for them, Cry is the only Dragonborn that has the ability to use her Thuum. Hainin and Ziris can't do that, because that's just how the AU goes, I guess. It's not really and AU, but it sort of is, since all three characters _would_ have the same capabilities if I'd written it how the game intended. But, since they all exist in the same world, they do not all have Dragonborn capabilities, which is why Ziris and Hainin are always listed as OC, rather than Dragonborn, on my stories.  
Wow. I've never actually written about that, so it felt good to try and explain. Thank you for your review, which prompted me to explain, anonymous friendship!**

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 **Chapter 9: Luck v. Skill**

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The following morning, Vex still had not returned from whatever she was doing, and Mercer was growing more and more disgruntled with each passing hour. By eleven, he was pacing behind his desk, and Ziris debated going over to speak with him.

Before she could make up her mind, there was the sound of grunting from the secret entrance, and Ziris turned her attention to it. Her eyes widened when she saw Vex appear, one arm wrapped around her stomach, and the other doing its best to support her weight as she climbed down the ladder with one foot. Her opposite leg sported a long, ugly gash that Ziris could see from where she sat on her bed.

Without hesitating, Ziris stood and hurried across the cistern to her fellow thief. Vex didn't complain when Ziris wrapped her arm around her neck and helped her over to her bed. She laid down on it with a groan, and Ziris quickly went to retrieve a potion and some linen for the cut on her leg.

When she returned, Vex's bed was surrounded by Brynjolf, Mercer, and Delvin. Vipir and Cynric stood nearby, exchanging concerned glances.

Ziris pushed through the men and quickly poured some of the potion she'd retrieved into Vex's mouth. The lithe thief spluttered a bit, coughing most of the potion back out, but Ziris persisted, and managed to get her to swallow half of it.

"Vex? Can you hear me?" Brynjolf queried, resting a gentle hand on Vex's forehead while Ziris went to work on the cut on her leg. Vex let out a mumbled response, and Brynjolf frowned, glancing at Mercer. "She needs rest."

"I need to know what happened," Mercer insisted coolly, and turned his stormy gaze to Vex's face. "Vex? Tell me."

"Damn mercenaries… all over the place," the thief managed, her voice weak. "Caught me… when I got on the island."

"So you didn't get into the house?" Mercer asked, and Vex responded with a shake of her head, wincing. Mercer scowled to himself, and stalked off towards his desk.

Brynjolf lingered a moment longer, glancing at Ziris, who ignored him in favor of persuading Vex to drink more of the potion, which she did. Brynjolf retreated after Mercer, leaving Delvin and Ziris with Vex.

"She'll be all right," Ziris told Delvin, who was considerably pale as he gazed down at Vex in worry. "The cut on her leg is the worst thing; it just needs some time to heal."

Delvin managed a nod, and then he sank down on the edge of Vex's bed, taking one of her hands in his. Ziris watched them for a moment longer, then, deciding there wasn't much else she could do, turned and started towards Mercer's desk.

Brynjolf was studying the ground as she approached, and Mercer was gazing at his ledger. Neither looked up when she reached them, although Mercer did ask, "She'll be all right?"

"Just needs to rest and let the cut on her leg close," Ziris confirmed. "She'll be back on her feet in two or three days." She glanced between him and Brynjolf, frowning. "What did she risk and almost lose her life for, anyhow?"

Mercer glanced up at her. "Our revenue from Goldenglow Estate has stopped," he said stonily. "We want to know why, and Maven wants to know why there's no more honey flowing her way. Vex was trying to find out both of these things."

Ziris frowned to herself as she considered this. After a moment, she met Mercer's gaze. "Do you want…?"

"No, not so soon after Vex was just there," Mercer responded. "It was risky before, and now even more so, knowing that Aringoth has hired mercenaries." He growled to himself. "Damned wood elf."

Ziris let out a sigh. She hadn't been given a high-paying job for a long time. She didn't necessarily need the gold, but she liked feeling important. It was no secret that Vex was the best infiltrator in the Guild, but Ziris trusted herself to sneak onto an island and into an estate.

Still, Mercer had a point. The mercenaries would be on high-alert for at least a week. They'd have to wait.

"Fine," she said, "but I want to do it."

Mercer rolled his eyes. "Give it a week before you try anything," he told her.

Ziris nodded, content, and then she turned to face Brynjolf. "You want to do that thing now?"

"Sure," he replied. "Give me a few minutes, and then we'll head up to the surface."

He walked away from the desk, and Ziris looked back at Mercer. "Do you think Aringoth _sold_ Goldenglow?" she asked.

"It's possible, but he'd better hope he didn't," Mercer answered, eyes narrowed. "Maven won't be happy to hear that he did, and we won't be happy to have to tell her. He'll have a lot to answer for."

"And you don't want him dead?" Ziris inquired. Mercer gave her a look, and she smiled. "All right, all right. Not the Dark Brotherhood. I get it."

Brynjolf returned a few moments later, dressed in a fancy outfit that looked as though it had been worn before. Ziris frowned when she saw him.

"You leaving us to become a steward?" she asked, and Brynjolf shook his head.

"You'll see. Come on."

Ziris followed him up the secret entrance ladder and trailed behind him as they walked through the burial ground behind the Temple of Mara. Brynjolf paused on the edge of the marketplace, and studied the activity there for a moment before turning to face her.

"It's pretty simple," he started. "We need to steal a ring from Madesi's lockbox behind his stand and place it on Brand-Shei. I figured you could do that, while I caused a distraction."

Ziris pursed her lips. "Why are we doing this?"

"Someone wants Brand-Shei out of business," Brynjolf replied with a shrug. "You can handle it, right?"

Ziris rolled her eyes and started to walk away from him towards a clump of shadows. "Just cause that distraction, Brynjolf. I'll plant the ring before you can say 'Black-Briar mead'."

Ziris ducked into the shadows as Brynjolf made his way over to the only vacant stand in the marketplace. She frowned when she watched him do this, and then he immediately began pulling out long necked red bottles from behind it and setting them up. How long had he been planning this job for? Obviously a while.

She rolled her eyes, again, and waited for him to begin his distraction.

Five minutes passed. And then ten. As fifteen rolled by, Ziris began to wonder if he'd dragged her out into the open for nothing. Finally, however, he seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"Everyone, gather 'round!" he invited to everyone in the marketplace.

With grumbles, they began to crowd around his stand. Ziris watched Brand-Shei plop down on a pile of boxes, and she sent up a thank you to the Divines for the position he'd put himself in. She then glanced at Madesi's stall. The Argonian hadn't moved.

 _Damn_.

She looked towards where Brynjolf was holding everyone's attention with his 'wares', and then back at Madesi. He was watching Brynjolf. If Ziris was very, very careful, she could, very possibly, get in behind him, pick the lock on his stand, steal the ring, and get out of there before he noticed.

Did she put that much stock into her abilities, however?

Of course she did. She'd done the same thing to Grelka the day before.

Ziris crept around the edge of the marketplace and paused momentarily, eyeing Madesi's position behind his stand. He was standing more to the right, leaving just enough space for her to creep in there and get the door open.

Silently, and making sure not to bump against him, Ziris sidled up behind the stand and quickly picked the lock on the sliding door. When it was open, she glanced up at Madesi. His gaze was still on Brynjolf.

Ziris turned her own back to her business, and cursed silently when she found herself face to face with a lockbox. Brynjolf had said there was one; why hadn't she considered it?

Not seeing any other choice, she put her lockpick in place and nestled her tongue between her teeth to keep from cursing aloud as she picked the lock on the box. Luck seemed to be on her side again, because she didn't have to fiddle with it for long.

Without pausing, she raised the lid, snatched everything that was inside, and scurried off to another patch of shadows a good distance away from the stand. Madesi didn't look down once.

Ziris sighed to herself, and then continued on around the marketplace to the boxes that Brand-Shei was seated on. She hid behind the stack and his stand, and, very carefully, slid the silver ring she's pulled out of the lockbox into his pocket. Without hesitating, she backtracked out from behind the boxes and around to the other side of the marketplace. Once she was in the clear, she rose and gave Brynjolf a look.

"That's all the time I have for today, unfortunately," the redheaded Nord said to his gathered crowd. "Thank you for listening."

"Hogwash," someone muttered as Ziris walked past him to the stand. Brynjolf gave her an appreciative look when she reached him.

"I'm impressed," he said to her. "I wasn't sure you were going to be able to get that ring with Madesi standing there."

"But I did," Ziris said simply, crossing her arms.

"You did," Brynjolf agreed. He produced a small coin purse from one of the pockets on his outfit and handed it to her. "Thanks for the help. I've been doing the merchant thing for a week, trying to figure out how to handle it. Seems like it was a two person job, however."

"Glad I could help," Ziris said, sliding the coin purse into one of her pouches. "That was all?"

Brynjolf seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he then nodded. "That was all."

Ziris dipped her head. "Then back to the cistern I go. Bye." She turned and walked away from him, half-wanting him to call her back. He didn't.

Ziris walked back to the secret entrance and tapped the button on the tomb. It slid backwards and away, and she dropped down into the opening and pulled the chain to cover the entrance again. When it was closed, she slid into the hole and made her way down the ladder.

When she reached the bottom, she found Delvin waiting for her.

"She's still sleeping," the thief said, meaning Vex.

"Yes, Delvin," Zris responded. "That's typically what happens when a person takes a potion and their body is trying to heal. They sleep for a long time." Delvin didn't look convinced, and she rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Del. She's going to be fine."

Leaving him with that, she walked away from him and towards her bed. She settled down on the edge of it with a sigh, and then tilted her head when she noticed someone she hadn't seen in the cistern for a while sitting down on a bed of her own.

Sapphire was reading a book, leaning back against the wall behind her bed. She seemed to sense Ziris was watching her, because she lowered her book and met her gaze. Ziris lifted a hand in greeting, and Sapphire's eyes narrowed before she returned her attention to the book, positioning it so that Ziris couldn't see her face.

Ziris sighed to herself. She understood why Sapphire was angry with her, but it would have been wrong of her to allow Sapphire to keep threatening Shadr.

She was a thief with morals, so what? It kept her sane.

Still… she couldn't let the anger linger for long. If Sapphire didn't get over it herself within the next few days, she'd do something about it.

She glanced towards Mercer's desk. He wasn't there, and a look around the cistern confirmed his absence. Ziris rose from her spot on the edge of the bed and stretched. She was feeling hungry; perhaps she could go see what Vekel had prepared to eat.

She ducked out of the cistern into the Ragged Flagon. It was quiet with both Vex and Delvin inside the cistern instead. Tonilia sat by herself at a corner table, reading a book, and Vekel was busy wiping down the bar. Dirge stood near the platform leading to the bar, ever alert for a threat.

Ziris hopped onto a barstool and watched Vekel work for a few minutes without speaking. When he finally glanced up from his task, he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Welcome home," he greeted. "Haven't seen you for about a week. Off on a job?"

"Winterhold. I got back yesterday," Ziris confirmed. "Anything cooking?"

"Just some stew that Tonilia wanted heated up. You want some, too?" Ziris nodded, and Vekel turned and retrieved a bowl of it for her. He set it down on the bar, and Ziris traded two gold septims for it, accepting the spoon he offered her. "What was in Winterhold?"

"Some insignia necklace or something," Ziris replied with a shrug as she stirred the stew. It was brown, and she thought it had some kind of vegetable in it, along with an unidentified meat that she hoped was rabbit. "You know I don't ask questions."

"No one does," Vekel agreed, watching her eye the soup. "It's rabbit, don't worry. And cabbage and some carrots."

Content, Ziris spooned some into her mouth. She glanced around the Flagon for a moment. "Odd without Vex and Delvin in here," she said idly.

"Aye," Vekel agreed. "Little too quiet without their bickering. How is Vex?"

"Hasn't woken up yet," Ziris answered. "She took a whole bottle of potion, though. I doubt she'll be awake until tomorrow morning."

"She was lucky to get off the island, then?" Vekel guessed, and Ziris nodded.

"Luckier than a lot of the others would have been. Seems like a streak of bad luck has been following us for while. I almost mucked up a job I did with Brynjolf earlier because someone wouldn't move, and Thrynn told me he almost lost a finger during a heist when a door closed before it was supposed to." She shook her head, and put some stew in her mouth. "I don't get it."

"Been this way since Gallus died and Mercer took over," Vekel commented idly. "Have you noticed that?"

Ziris considered it. The Guild _had_ suffered because of loss of jobs and lack of coin being brought in, but she didn't think they were too badly off. Unless they were, and Mercer hadn't shared that information with her.

Her hand drifted to one of the pouches on her belt and opened it, slipping in to finger the key that opened the Guild's master vault.

Ziris had felt proud at the time of receiving it, but now she wondered why it was in her possession. She knew that Delvin had one; he was the oldest member of the Guild. Mercer and Brynjolf each had one, as Guild Master and second-in-command, respectively.

Why did she have one? Vex had been in the Guild longer than she had, and so had Niruin. It didn't make sense, despite Mercer's promise of it being a precaution.

She shook her head and withdrew her hand from the pouch, securing it again and returning her attention to her stew. It didn't matter much to her; she couldn't open the safe without a second key, anyhow. Not that she would want to open the safe. All the gold that was in there could easily make someone go crazy just from looking at it for too long.

She finished her stew and thanked Vekel as she slid off of the barstool. Talking to the bartender always gave her a sense of understanding, although she didn't know why. She started to work her way back into the cistern, to speak with Delvin and see if he knew of a job in Riften. Before she could make it through the hidden panel in the wardrobe, however, Thrynn was there, blocking her path.

"Oh, hello," she greeted, blinking up at him. "I thought you were going to Whiterun?"

"Mercer told Vipir to take it instead, said it needed someone quick," Thrynn explained. He glanced past her towards the bar, and then met her gaze again. "Did you already eat?"

"Yeah, just now," she replied. "I was going to go ask Delvin if he had anything in Riften for me. I'm confined here, since I took so long on the Winterhold job."

"That wasn't your fault," Thrynn said. "You were waylaid by a dragon."

Ziris merely smiled and scooted beneath his arm to the other side of the closet. "Oh well. I wasn't up for traveling for a while, anyhow. Besides, Mercer can't keep me here for long. I'm the only one who seems to be able to do a job in another hold without mucking it up."

Thrynn cursed amiably after her, and Ziris continued to grin as she reentered the cistern. Delvin was still sitting vigil beside Vex's bedside, and Rune was seated at the table with Sapphire, discussing something. Niruin leaned against a wall, watching Cynric shoot arrows into the training dummies and offering a tip or trick every few arrows.

Brynjolf was back, wearing his Guild armor once again and standing behind the Guild Master's desk, studying the ledger with a furrowed brow. He glanced up when the door closed behind Ziris, echoing around the cistern, and waved her over.

Ziris rolled her eyes to herself at having to do his bidding, but trotted across the walkway to where he was all the same.

"Yes, boss?" she inquired dryly. Brynjolf ignored her tone and gestured to the ledger.

"A few of Riften's citizens haven't paid up this month," he said, and glanced up at her. "Think you could convince them to hand over their coin?"

Ziris offered a long groan. "I guess," she bemoaned. "Who is it?"

"Haelga, to start. Keerava and Bersi, too." Brynjolf gave her a look. "Do not rough them up as an easy way of getting the gold. You know that's not how we do things."

"And you know that I'm too friendly to do something like that, anyhow," Ziris responded pleasantly. She drifted away from the desk and towards the ladder, offering Rune and Sapphire a friendly wave as she passed them. Rune returned it, but Sapphire did not.

Ziris hadn't expected her to.

She climbed the ladder and walked out from beneath the Temple of Mara, gazing around for a moment before heading for the Bee and Barb with a shrug.

She'd been in Riften long enough to know what could make someone give up the money they owed the Guild. For instance, she knew that Keerava had family living in Morrowind, and that she didn't want them discovered. Ziris could use that to her advantage.

As soon as she walked into the Bee and Barb, Keerava's assistant, Talen-Jei, walked over to her.

"Get out," he said plainly, and Ziris held up her hands.

"Easy. We just want what's owed."

"With the rumors going around about how poorly the Guild's doing, Keerava's gotten bold," Talen-Jei informed her. "She won't be giving up your pay without a fight, and I don't want to be cleaning blood off the floor."

"Nor do I want you to have to," Ziris responded. "I have a way around such a response. Excuse me." She scooted around the Argonian and sidled up to the bar. Keerava glared at her as she rested her elbows on top of it, and she tossed a wet rag down onto it with a loud _smack_.

"Leave. Now," the Argonian growled.

"I'm guessing you aren't willing to pay what you owe," Ziris commented.

"No, and I won't be, ever," Keerava agreed. "Get out of my inn!"

Ziris sighed and glanced around for a moment. "Perhaps I should visit that farm in Morrowind," she began. "I'm sure they'd be willing to pay…"

Keerava's orange eyes immediately lost their fire. "How could you possibly know about…?" She trailed off and shook her head. "Please, my family means so much to me. Don't hurt them."

"I can forget about it, if you give me the gold that you owe," Ziris said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Fine," Keerava said, sourly. She reached beneath the bar and then dropped a heavy coin purse onto it. "Take this to Brynjolf, and tell him he'll have no more trouble from me."

Ziris smiled and pick up the coin purse. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Keerava hissed at her and went back to wiping down the bar as Ziris strolled out of the Bee and Barb, securing the coin purse to her belt as she did so. She then headed for the Pawned Praun, not feeling like going to the Bunkhouse and dealing with Haelga just yet.

She found Bersi alone in the front room of the shop, and he frowned at her when she walked in. "Not another one of you people," he muttered under his breath.

Ziris strolled over to the dresser beneath the window on the front of the shop, examining the Dwemer urn that sat on top of it. "Not going to pay, then?" she guessed.

"No, of course not. If I didn't pay three days ago, what makes your Guild think I'm going to be paying now? Get out of my shop."

"Bersi, you don't pay, and bad things are going to happen to you," Ziris told him. "Do you really want that?"

"Petty threats aren't going to be enough to persuade me this time around," Bersi retorted. "Your Guild can barely protect themselves; why should I believe they can protect me? You people are all talk, and everyone knows it!"

Ziris sighed to herself, and pushed the Dwemer urn off of the dresser. It shattered as soon as it hit the wooden floor, and Bersi let out a gasp as it did so. Ziris turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Still don't want to pay?" she queried.

Bersi gaped at the shattered urn. "Do you know how much that cost?" he demanded after a moment, glaring at her. "More than I owe, that's for sure!" All the same, he produced a coin purse and tossed it to the floor at her feet. "Fine, take it. I'll pay on time from now on. Just… don't smash anything else."

Ziris scooped up the coin purse and left the shop without another word. She put the purse onto her belt and headed to Haelga's Bunkhouse. She walked in, and wrinkled her nose. The scent of intercourse was palpable.

Haelga backed away from the counter she stood behind as the door closed behind Ziris. "Please, don't hurt me."

"We want our coin, Haelga," Ziris informed her, remaining where she was. The less she touched in the Bunkhouse, the better.

"I know. I already heard from Keerava that the Guild is done waiting." She reached beneath the counter and pulled out a coin purse, then set it down. "Look, I even have the payment. Please, just take it and go."

Ziris stepped forward enough to pick up the coin purse, being careful not to touch anything else. She attached it to her belt and glanced up at Haelga.

"You know… I doubt that Mercer will keep coming to help you worship Dibella if you're late on your payment again," she said after a moment. "Keep that in mind, would you?"

Haelga scowled after her as she exited the Bunkhouse and headed for the secret entrance. She hopped down into the cistern and immediately went over to the Guild Master's desk. One by one, she dropped the coin purses onto the desk in front of Brynjolf.

"Keerava, Bersi, and Haelga. All taken care of." Brynjolf reached for the coin purses, producing a smaller one for her. Ziris took it without complaint and hefted it for a moment, watching as he dropped the coin purses into a drawer on the desk and closed it.

"Brynjolf?" He glanced up, and she let out a breath. "When… when's the last time you've been in the vault?"

Brynjolf's eyebrows drew together as he gazed at her. "Why?"

"I just… everyone I talked to about paying mentioned that they know the Guild's in a bad way," Ziris replied. "I was wondering _how_ bad."

Brynjolf exhaled slowly. "I haven't had cause to go into the vault for a while," he said. "I trust Mercer to take care of it. He has been for a long time, now."

"Right, I know. I trust him too," Ziris assured. "I just wanted to know if the rumors are truer than we're making them out to be."

"Ziris, if it gets to be really bad, Mercer and I will tell everyone," Brynjolf said. "I admire your loyalty, and your worry for the Guild's well being, but it isn't your place to know anything before anyone else."

"I wasn't implying that it was," Ziris grumbled. She turned on her heel and stalked away from the desk, shaking her head to herself as she went. She headed over to the bed Vex was laid out on, and where Delvin was sitting beside her. The Breton glanced up at her approach.

"Nothing?" Ziris queried, and he shook his head. "Don't worry, Del. If the potion's doing its job, she'll be out until tomorrow." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to stay here all night long."

"I want to," Delvin replied without looking up from Vex's pale face, which was even whiter than it usually was. "Did ya need somethin', love?"

"I was going to ask if you had any jobs in Riften," Ziris responded. "I need to waste time until I can take a shot at Goldenglow myself."

Delvin glanced up at this. "You want to go in there, even after seeing what those brutes did to Vex?" he asked in disbelief.

"Someone's got to," Ziris said with a shrug. "I figured I could give it a go." She smiled at him. "And, if it goes badly for me, at least I know you'll be there to sit by my bedside and nurse me back to health."

Delvin grinned back, reached up and took the hand she'd put on his shoulder. "Of course, love," he assured, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I doubt you'll need it, though. You're the luckiest out of all of us."

Ziris didn't share with him that she believed she was just the most skilled. Instead, she nodded, and left him alone with Vex once again, retreating across the cistern to her own bed. She slid her newest coin purses beneath her mattress and then flopped down onto the bed.

All that was left to do was wait, she supposed.

* * *

 **Also, I'm sorry this is being uploaded later than normal. I sort of forgot to do it last night, and then I woke up at four this morning and I was sort of shook because of dreams so I didn't really do anything but watch Vine compilations on Tumblr for a good two hours, so...**

 **And then I didn't wake up until 10, and I had to spend two _more_ hours watching the new YouTube videos that were uploaded. **

**But I'm posting this chapter now, so I hope everyone enjoys it, and doesn't miss it!**

 **I'll see you in the next one, which will, hopefully, be on time!**


	10. Goldenglow

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.**

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 **There is definitely something about not reading a thing you finished several months ago, and then having to go back and reread it in order to edit it and realizing that it's... kind of... not what you'd thought it'd be, but still okay.**

 **Yeah, still okay.**

 **(There's something special down in the bottom Author's Note. Check it out after you're done reading the chapter for a surprise!)**

* * *

 **Review Responses:**

 **Nina: Indeed she does. It comes from that 'play by all the rules' attitude that she has about everything. It also makes her my least favorite character, because her personality type is completely different from mine.  
And, thank you for the bit about the other Guild members! I figured that, since they're part of the Guild, they might as well be part of the story. Obviously, there's some who appear more often than others, but I appreciate the fact that you've noticed I've tried to include them!**

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 ** _We interrupt these Review Responses to bring you a quick promotion about Wiggs's Tumblr page:_**

 **You can check out a post about the characters' personality types over on my Tumblr page, which is just my name here typed in front of tumblr typed in front of .com** **.  
If you search for 'skyrim' or 'elder scrolls: v', it should be one of the results.**

 ** _Now back to your regularly schedule programming._**

* * *

 **Review Responses:**

 **Yukymi008: I'm awfully sorry that I can't make that first 'y' a lowercase letter like your name has it.  
Also, thank you for reviewing! I understood everything perfectly, so keep your reviews coming, if you like, because I really appreciate it!**

 **Manu: Once again, _thank you_. Mercer is definitely the hardest character to write, because he's sort of an enigma. I'm so happy that you think I'm writing him well. I hope that Brynjolf and Ziris can fix things soon, too, but, as the author, I'm afraid to say that it might not happen for a while. Keep on coming back to see, though!**

 **Guest: Even short reviews like these ones make my day. Thank you, anonymous friend!**

 **WilSquare: Howdy, buddy! I think I can recall seeing you a long time ago! Glad you decided to pop in again, and thank you for the lengthy review filled with only good things! It was fun to read, and to know that you're enjoying the story after taking a break from it. Now you can spend an hour or so catching up on what you missed! Keep checking in every couple of weeks, because there'll always be more to come back too!**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Goldenglow**

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Several days later, Vex was back to her normal, thorny self, snapping at anyone who tried to help her when she stood to go relieve herself or get something to eat. Delvin, however, insisted that he remain nearby to catch her if she fell, and Ziris was surprised Vex had yet to cut his own leg to keep him from doing so.

Still, as she finished dressing on the day exactly a week from Vex's attempt to get onto the island, Ziris decided that she needed to find out anything useful Vex could share with her, to aid her in getting on the island.

She crossed the cistern to where Vex sat at the table, upright despite Delvin's protests. She sat down across from the lithe thief, who glared at her immediately.

"Here to tell me I should be laying down, too?" she demanded, and Ziris shook her head.

"I wanted to ask you if you could tell me anything about getting onto the island."

Vex's sour expression didn't fade in the slightest. "Mercer's pinning it on you now, is he?"

"I offered," Ziris replied.

"You would have," Vex muttered, reaching for the bottle of Black-Briar mead sitting in front of her on the table. She didn't speak as she took a drink from the bottle and then stared at it without blinking. Just when Ziris was going to give up and leave, Vex glanced at her.

"There's a sewage drain on the northwest side of the island," she said. "I made it through there and came up in front of the front door. I was picking my way in when I was discovered." She shook her head, either in disgust with herself or the mercenaries and Aringoth, and Ziris nodded.

"Thank you."

She stood up, ready to go, and Vex gazed at her for a moment before speaking again: "Be careful out there," she said, lowly. "Those mercenaries aren't looking to take prisoners. Trust me."

Ziris met her gaze, and dipped her head. "I'll be on my guard," she said, and then turned and started for the ladder. Before she could get a foot on a rung, however, Brynjolf called her to a halt. She turned to look at him, one hand on the ladder, and the thief exhaled.

"Mercer wanted me to ask you to send another message, from the Guild itself."

"Which is?" Ziris asked impatiently. She wanted to get a move on before her adrenaline failed her.

"We want you to burn three of the bee hives," Brynjolf explained. "Only three, though. Just enough to send a message, not enough to burn the whole estate to the ground."

"Got it," Ziris said. "Burn the hives, get whatever documents are in the safe in the basement."

"And don't die," Brynjolf added.

"Right. Thanks." Ziris climbed up the ladder, rolling her eyes along the way, and pushed her way through the cover on the tunnel.

She strolled casually out of Riften and around to the eastern side of the city, where Goldenglow Estate waited in the middle of Lake Honrich. She crouched down and slipped a hand into the water to test its temperature. It was cold, but not as cold as it would be later that night. If she wanted to get through this without freezing to death, she'd need to do it quickly.

She let out a breath, and slid into the lake. She made her way through the water to the island, and around to the northwest side, where the sewage drain Vex had mentioned was supposed to be.

She hadn't been making it up. It waited patiently on a small patch of land beneath a dock for her, covered by wooden planks. Ziris removed the planks in order to slide into the drain, and then recovered it so that it wouldn't look disturbed. She then made her way down the first passage that waited, freezing when she heard the familiar sound of a skeever somewhere up ahead.

She sighed and pulled out her glass dagger, not necessarily in the mood to be dealing with skeevers. She rounded a corner, and two jumped out at her. One successfully landed a bite on her arm, and she cursed as she drove her dagger into the other, and then quickly yanked it out and shoved it into the one latched onto her arm.

When it was dead, she used her sword to pry it off of her, hissing as she examined the holes in her armor's sleeve. She'd felt the beast pierce her skin, but she couldn't say how bad the bite was.

Sighing to herself, she decided to ignore it for now and keep going. She started down the passage again, and paused when she noticed a thin line of rope along the floor. She followed it up the wall and to a pot filled with the warm glow of fire.

Ziris shook her head to herself and eyed the three skeevers that also awaited her. She needed to draw them towards her so that she could snap the rope and drop the fire onto them. How to do that, though?

She decided on the easiest option and pulled out an arrow and her bow. She shot the arrow into the passage, and it hit the wall with a noise loud enough to draw the attention of the skeevers. They screeched and started towards her. When they were close enough, Ziris quickly snapped the rope and slid backwards to avoid the flame and the smell of burning skeevers. They let out more screeches as they lit up, and quickly perished as the fire died out along the floor.

Ziris did her best to hold her breath as she dodged past the crispy bodies and further down the passage. It inclined slightly, and she was faced with another trap at the top, which she activated with a piece of rubble. A spiky ball fell across her path, and she thanked the Divines that she hadn't been in its way. Slipping past it, she continued on and found herself facing a ladder.

Not seeing any other way out, she climbed the ladder and pushed through the planks that lay across the top. Fresh air hit her senses as she did so, and she found herself directly outside of the estate. Climbing from the drain and quickly ducking into a crouch, she edged along the stone wall to the door, only to find it locked.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath, and then froze when she heard a voice that wasn't her own speak from nearby. Without hesitating, she hurried back over to the hole she'd emerged from and ducked into it again, just in time. A pair of mercenaries came strolling along around the corner of the estate, talking with one another.

"The elf hasn't paid in about a week," one commented.

"I know," the other agreed. "I wonder why; we took care of that thief, didn't we?"

"We didn't kill her."

"So?"

"We're hired killers," the first said. "He pays us to kill intruders, and we didn't kill that one."

"I guess you have a point," the second replied after a moment. "The least he could do is give us some mead. It's getting cold out here at night."

The other mumbled an agreement as they rounded the far corner. Ziris exhaled and was about to push her way out of the drain again when another voice reached her. She ducked back into the hole with silent curse.

 _This is going to be a long day._

Several hours later, she was still crouched at the top of the ladder, her belly rumbling. She hadn't seen or heard any mercenaries for at least thirty minutes. She figured it could be safe enough to try to lockpick the door, but she still needed to figure out a way to burn the beehives without being caught, and she hadn't even seen the blasted things.

The first step to either of those options, however, was to leave the damn hole.

Ziris climbed from it and ducked into a bush nearby. She peered out through the leaves, eyeing the side of the estate she could now see. It appeared that the island was actually a network of smaller islands. She was on the largest, with the house, but she could see a group of smaller ones connected to it by a set of wooden bridges. Across those bridges, on one of the bigger islands, was a group of beehives.

Guarding the bridges, and the beehives, were five different mercenaries, all seated around a fire that one of them had started.

Ziris eyed the fire, the mercenaries, and the beehives for a moment, before she turned and left the safety of the bush to go around to the other side of the estate. On this side was the wooden dock she had seen before, and next to it was a small wooden boat.

Ziris pursed her lips as an idea began to formulate, and she smiled to herself when it came together.

A few minutes later, the boat was drifting around to the side of the estate that had the beehives. Ziris, leaning against the building, listened as one of the mercenaries caught sight of it, and let out a shout, alerting his companions. Together, the five of them got up and jogged towards where the boat floated, getting dangerously close to drifting out to the open lake. She leaned around the building, waiting and watching.

Relief flooded through her when three of the mercenaries jumped into the water to chase after the boat, while the other two ran down the length of the island, trying to keep up with them.

Using this distraction, Ziris quickly darted across to where the fire glowed, caught some of the flame on the end of a stick, and carted the burning wood over to the beehives. Without hesitating, she lit up the three hives closest to her, and then stomped out the burning stick and raced back to the house.

She dove into the bush again just as the three mercenaries in the water managed get to boat secured and began to lead it back to the island. They hadn't noticed the three extra fires that were now burning.

Ziris didn't waste anymore time in withdrawing a lockpick from one of her pouches, hurrying to the front door, and getting to work.

The first pick snapped, and Ziris refrained from cursing in favor of getting out another one and replacing it. She struggled to work quickly without panicking, but she was having a hard time of doing so when she could hear the mercenaries shouting to one another, trying to get the boat back to the island.

Just when she thought the two on land were going to give up and turn around to see the burning hives, the lock opened, and Ziris quickly slipped into the estate, shutting the door quietly behind her.

The hours that had passed had left the inside dark. Ziris frowned to herself, doubting that there weren't any mercenaries inside. She began to take a pace forward, and froze when she heard movement from above her.

 _Aringoth?_

She supposed that it was him, unaware of the intruder in his house. And, she thought, the darkness was a good thing. She could stay hidden for longer in the dark.

So, carefully and silently, she worked her way through the house, dispatching any mercenaries she found along the way, doing so only by thinking of what they had done to Vex. By the time she'd reached a set of stairs leading up to the second floor, she'd killed three.

She started up the stairs, wondering if she would be able to simply take the key to Aringoth's safe, or if she'd have to make him give it up.

When she found the door to his bedroom wide open, and glowing warmly with candles from within, she realized that they would definitely be having talks.

She drew her hood up to make her appear more menacing, and rose from her crouch. She then walked right into the room and found Aringoth sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked up at her entrance, and his eyes widened in fear. Quickly, he jumped to his feet, holding up his hands.

"Worthless mercenaries," he muttered. "I didn't think Maven or Mercer would allow me to get away with this, but I had little choice." He closed his eyes, wincing. "Don't kill me, please."

"I'll need the key to your safe, then," Ziris responded, walking over to him.

"Fine, take it!" Aringoth said, reaching into his pocket and producing a silver key. His hands were shaking as he handed it to Ziris. "I'm… I'm most likely good as dead anyway, aren't I?"

"Why is that? Do we have reason to want to kill you?" Ziris queried, and Aringoth stammered a moment before he frowned at her.

"I've said too much already. I gave you what you came for, now leave me in peace!"

Ziris gazed at him for a moment longer before she turned and left his room, going back down the stairs.

It didn't take long for her to get into the cellar, where she was forced to take out three more mercenaries before finally reaching the room that contained Aringoth's safe. She used the key he had given her on it, and it opened to reveal a single piece of parchment with a red seal, and a pile of gold.

Ziris slid the gold into an empty coin purse she'd brought along, and then pocketed the paper as well. She didn't bother looking at it; it wasn't her business.

With that done, she returned to the first level of the mansion and poked her head out the front door to make sure there were no mercenaries nearby before slipping back into the tunnel and returning the way she'd entered.

She paused on the other end, eyeing the lake, which was bound to be freezing, or close to it by now. She also had an important piece of parchment on her that she couldn't risk getting wet.

Sighing to herself, she removed the paper from her pocket, and, holding it high above her head, made her way into the lake and paddled back over to Riften.

When she climbed out of it, the cold air immediately mixed with the wetness of her armor and hair, making her shiver violently. She jogged to the Riften gates and avoided prying eyes by taking the back path to the hidden entrance, which she quickly climbed down. The drafty-ness of the cistern did nothing to help her freezing form, and she hit the ground hard, her fingers unable to hold onto the ladder. The paper was still gripped tightly in one hand.

"Ziris!" Someone approached her. She shoved the paper at whoever it was and immediately began stripping down, removing her wet armor as quickly as possible.

"Cl-clothes, bl-blanket, any-anything, now!" she said between teeth chatters as she peeled off her wet breeches and tossed them on top of her discarded cuirass, gloves, boots and hood, standing naked aside from her tunic, which clung to her wet skin like a hungry baby to its mother's breast.

A warm blanket was immediately tossed across her shoulders, and she closed it tightly around her, struggling to make sense of what was happening.

The person she'd handed the paper to was Thrynn, and he was studying her with a concerned expression that she hadn't thought him capable of. Brynjolf stood nearby, holding another blanket in case she needed it, looking at her with his typical 'worried Brynjolf' face.

Ziris took the paper from Thrynn and made her way over to the Guild Master's desk, where she dropped it on top of the ledger. She stiffened herself to keep from shivering as she looked up and met Mercer's gaze.

"That was all that was in the safe, along with some coin," she told him. She jerked her head towards her wet clothing, lying on the ground in front of the ladder. "That's over there."

Mercer tilted his head. "We saw the smoke pillars from here," he said, picking up the paper that Ziris had retrieved. "You only burned three of the hives?"

"That's all," she confirmed. "The mercenaries on the island had a bonfire of their own going. I borrowed some of it to do that part of the job."

Mercer wasn't listening to her anymore. He was scowling at the parchment, his expression dark with rage. Brynjolf, who'd followed her over to the desk, frowned.

"What is it?" he asked.

"The moronic elf sold Goldenglow," Mercer growled.

Brynjolf's eyes widened. "He must have no idea about the extent of Maven's power, then, if he would willingly do such a thing." He shook his head. "I'm sure he'll be finding out soon enough, however."

Mercer tossed the paper back down onto the desk with a disgruntled huff, and he looked at Ziris again. "Go sit in front of the fire pit in the Flagon and warm up," he ordered. "Take your armor and dry it out."

Ziris nodded and turned to do as he commanded, not expecting to receive any praise for a job well done. As she walked away, she heard Brynjolf pick up the paper.

"What's this odd symbol here?" he wondered aloud.

"No idea," Mercer grumbled in response, "but I imagine it will lead us to the buyer. Get in touch with your contacts, Brynjolf, and find out if anyone knows anything."

"Aye," Brynjolf replied.

Ziris picked up her pace, eager to get to the fire. Thrynn joined her, holding her dripping armor, and she gave him a grateful look as he held the door open for her. He then quickly put a chair in front of the fire pit behind the bar in the Flagon for her to sit down in.

Vekel gave her a curious look. "Odd time to go for a swim," he commented after a moment.

"Piss off," Ziris countered, gazing into the flames.

Thrynn set her armor down in front of the fire as well, laid out so that it would dry. Ziris struggled to shrug out of her tunic as well, the sopping fabric doing nothing to help warm her up. Thrynn watched as she succeeded in removing it beneath the blanket, and then kick it down past her thighs and off of her legs. It landed neatly on top of her cuirass, and he silently moved it off to the side.

"You want something warm?" Vekel asked, and Ziris nodded eagerly. Within a minute, he'd produced a tin mug filled with a steaming drink, and she took a small swallow of it. Tasteless, but hot. It settled happily into her belly, and she slid down in the chair, eyes drifting shut.

She was beginning to doze off when someone took hold of her right wrist and drew her arm out of the warm confines of the blanket. Ziris cursed in annoyance, her eyes opening, but had cause to pause when she saw the skeever bite she'd received earlier. The space between the two teeth marks was an ugly yellow color, and it was slowly beginning to work past the wound and up the remainder of her arm.

"What's this?" Thrynn asked, holding up her wrist.

"Skeever," Ziris mumbled. "Probably contracted a disease of some kind." She sighed to herself. "I should take a potion."

"I'll go find one," Thrynn promised, dropping her arm. As he jogged off, Vex approached, holding a ball of linen and a wet rag. She settled down onto the floor next to Ziris's chair and silently began to clean off her arm.

"Thanks," Ziris said, and Vex grunted in response.

"Delvin told me you took care of my leg," she explained. "Just trying to return the favor." She looked up from the wound and met Ziris's gaze. "Don't think I'm going to make a habit out of this, though."

Ziris smiled in response and closed her eyes again. "Course not."

"How'd you get past them?" Vex asked, and Ziris chuckled.

"Distracted them with a boat. I cut the ties on it and let it drift out to the lake. They chased after it, giving me enough time to burn the hives and pick the lock on the door."

Surprisingly, Vex let out a soft snort of amusement as well. "Nice," she said. "Good job. But…"

"But you're still the best, Vex," Ziris finished, smirking.

"Right, and don't you forget it." Vex finished cleaning off the bite and went to work wrapping it. She tied the bandage off with a knot, and then stood again, just as Thrynn returned with a bottle of potion. He offered it to Ziris, who exchanged it for the mug and swallowed the potion down. She then handed the empty bottle to him, and Thrynn set both the mug and bottle down on the bar.

"Get her some food," Vex advised. "She needs to eat, or that potion isn't going to stay down."

A plate of bread and cheese was immediately given to her, and Ziris willingly swallowed some of it down. The potion reacted violently to the food, and she had to take a minute when she was done to keep herself from retching. Her hand clamped over her mouth and she leaned forward, eyes squeezed shut.

"Ziris?" Thrynn asked nervously, and she exhaled through her nose, straightening back up.

"I'm fine," she said, and then to prove it, she grabbed the mug and took a sip of the hot drink. "I'm tired, though."

"Give yourself a couple more minute to dry off," Vekel said. "Your hair is still dripping."

Ziris did as he suggested, and while she was wringing her hair out, the door to the cistern opened and Mercer walked into the Ragged Flagon. She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching as he walked over to where she sat. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms.

"What happened?"

She told him from the beginning, including her skeever bite and her trick with the boat. She also told him about Aringoth's comment about being dead, and Mercer frowned when he heard this.

"Why would he think that?" he asked, and Ziris shrugged.

"I asked him the same thing, but he wouldn't tell me. I figured I couldn't waste any more time, and I went down to the cellar to get the things from the safe. He's still alive, though, at least by my hand. Maven could have already sent someone else in there to kill him, for all I know."

Mercer considered her tale for a moment, and then he straightened up from the wall. "We'll let Maven know that Aringoth sold Goldenglow," he said. "What she wants to do with the elf is her decision."

Ziris nodded, and Mercer gazed at her for another second. "You did well," he finally said. He turned and left the Flagon without saying anything else, however, and Ziris watched him go before facing the fire again, smiling a bit to herself.

* * *

 **Chapters that have very little amounts of italicized phrases or words are my favorite because then I don't have to keep looking back and forth between the Google Doc and the FanFiction editing screen.**

 **Bless.**

 **(Also there's a reference to _The Incredibles_ in here somewhere that you guys should try to find. If you find it, I'll give you a virtual cookie, and I'll write a one-shot of characters of your choice! Just give me a single word and two characters, and I'll write up a 3000-4000 short story about it! First one to find the reference wins!)**


	11. Whiterun and Solitude

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **Sadly, this chapter has a lot of italicized text, so it took me longer to edit.**

 **Dang.**

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 ** **Review Responses:****

 ** **Guest: That's nice of you, anonymous friend! I'm always waiting for you, too. For your review, that is!****

 ** **Mia78: Again, I apologize for not writing your name correctly. Stinkin' iPad. Anyhow, keep on writing reviews, friend. I really appreciate them.****

 ** **P: I'd say Ziris is pretty happy to get a compliment from Mercer, yeah. She likes feeling validated. And here's the more you asked for. I hope you see the update!****

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Whiterun and Solitude**

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A few days after the Goldenglow fiasco, Ziris was coming back into the cistern from the Ragged Flagon after informing Delvin a job she'd done at the stables had been completed. She paused when Mercer waved her over from where he stood at his desk, and she quickly jogged across the cistern to him.

"What do you need?" she asked, stopping in front of his desk.

"Maven wanted to express that she was impressed by your intrusion of Goldenglow," Mercer responded, gesturing to a letter on his desk. "She also wanted to know if you were available for a job she needs completed over in Whiterun."

Ziris drew her eyebrows together. "I'm not allowed to leave Riften, I thought," she said.

"You weren't, but it's been two weeks," Mercer answered. "You were specifically requested for this job, so I'm lifting your punishment." Ziris grinned at him, and Mercer waved her off. "You're supposed to meet someone named Mallus Maccius at the inn in Whiterun. He'll explain everything to you."

"Do you want me to head out now?" Ziris queried, and Mercer shook his head.

"Tomorrow morning. Get some rest. The pass to Whiterun is bound to be snowy, so you'll have to take the north road instead to avoid it, which takes longer."

"Do you not think I can make it through snow?"

"You almost froze to death a few days ago because of a swim in Lake Honrich," Mercer responded. "Seems that not all Nords are built for the cold." Ziris crossed her arms, and Mercer turned his gaze down to his ledger. "I was able to get you a horse for free."

"What? A horse?" Ziris paled. "I don't do horses."

"You will for this," Mercer answered simply. "Any other complaints, or can I get back to my work?"

Ziris sighed to herself, and turned away from his desk, heading for her bed. On her way there, she was called to a halt by Sapphire, who approached her.

"Hey," the brunette thief greeted. "Can we talk a bit?"

"Sure," Ziris replied, surprised by her approach. "What about?"

"I wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting recently," Sapphire explained. "I've been a bit of a bitch to you, and you really don't deserve it." She shrugged her shoulders. "I know that what I was doing with Shadr wasn't fair, and I wanted to thank you for stopping me while I was ahead. Sometimes I get greedy."

"We all do," Ziris assured. "We're thieves; it's in our blood."

Sapphire nodded in agreement, and then offered Ziris a smile. "I heard about Goldenglow. Good job."

"Thanks," Ziris said. "It was easier, knowing how Vex was able to get on the island." She tilted her head. "What about you? Gotten any good jobs lately?"

"Not really," Sapphire responded. "Delvin said he had something over in Markarth, but that's a long journey to take by myself."

Ziris grinned. "You could always take Rune with you. I'm sure he'd keep you company."

Sapphire seemed taken aback for a moment, and then she laughed. "I guess we weren't being as subtle as I thought," she said, and Ziris shook her head. Sapphire nodded, considering it. "I guess I could take Rune, with permission from Mercer of course." She shuddered. "I hate asking him for things."

"He can be a bit prickly," Ziris agreed. "The key is knowing the right time to approach him." She gestured to Mercer's desk. "See? Right now is a bad time, because he's busy working. Later on, though, when he's had a bottle or two of Black-Briar mead and is getting ready to go to Riftweald… that's the golden hour."

Sapphire laughed again. "I'll keep that in mind." She faced Ziris again. "So, what's the story with you two, then?"

"He found me in Riften when I was seven, starving and ready to give up. He brought me to the Guild and taught me everything I know, made sure I was the best damn thief I could be," Ziris told her. She smiled wistfully. "I owe him a lot."

Sapphire seemed disbelieving. "Mercer, acting as a mentor?" She shook her head. "You're making that up."

"Swear I'm not," Ziris said, lifting a hand. "He was different back then, before the Guild started to fall to pieces. Time's changed him, and given him a lot more gray hairs." Sapphire laughed again, and Ziris smiled, glad they were finally getting along.

"So… I'm assuming you're an orphan, too, then?" Sapphire guessed, moving past her to sit down on the edge of Ziris's bed. Ziris nodded and joined her.

"My parents were killed in a vampire attack on our farm," she explained. "I was able to hide from them, and when they were gone, I made my way to Riften, having no other place to go." She shook her head to herself, the dark memories starting to resurface. "I spent two weeks on the streets. By the time Mercer caught me trying to steal, I was nothing more than skin and bones, and my clothes were rags. I was at the end of my rope." She let out a breath. "Mercer, and the Guild, saved me."

"And now you're living the life, the prized thief of the Thieves Guild, and the Guild Master's favorite," Sapphire mumbled. "I wish my tale was just as sweet."

"You don't need to tell me," Ziris said. "It's not anyone's place to ask, and you shouldn't have to talk about it."

Sapphire offered her a small smile. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate that."

Ziris merely nodded back. "That's one thing you can be grateful for, in the Guild, if nothing else. No one pushes you for information. As long as you're a good thief, you're welcome here." She stood up and gave Sapphire a grin. "And… I doubt you have any problems with that."

"True enough," Sapphire agreed with a shrug of her shoulders. She rose as well. "We'll have to talk more, sometime," she said. "Maybe when you get back from… Whiterun?"

"That's it," Ziris confirmed, "and we should. After all… what other girl is there to talk to? Vex? Tonilia?" She shook her head. "Not the most appealing choices."

Sapphire laughed. "True enough," she said, and then she waved. "Have a safe trip."

"Thanks," Ziris responded, and then she watched Sapphire walk away. She settled back down onto her bed and let out a breath, glancing across the cistern towards the master vault.

After a night of dreamless sleep, thankfully, Ziris was on her way to Whiterun, hoping that she didn't muck up this job. It was one she'd been requested for specifically, by Maven Black-Briar herself. If she messed it up, she didn't doubt there would be trouble for her, and the Guild.

She assumed there was enough of that already.

* * *

Ziris had forgotten how good it felt to go on a job outside of Riften, and have it go extremely well. She'd completed the task assigned to her, and received a rather large portion of gold from someone who wasn't even plotting with her, as well as another one of those mysterious letters that she had found in the safe beneath Goldenglow. Obviously, whoever this mystery person was was very set on ruining the relationship between the Guild and Maven Black-Briar, which Ziris knew to be one of the only relationships that had survived after Gallus's death.

After presenting the letter to Mercer, and receiving the pay Maven had offered up, Ziris watched him read it, and scowl.

"Do… do you think it's one of the thieves who got away, after the mutiny?" she asked him carefully, and Mercer grunted.

"Whoever they are, they're well funded, and have been able to avoid identification for years," he said. When Ziris frowned at him, he shook his head. "Similar events have occurred with other sources in the past. It doesn't matter at this point; our nemesis is going to pay dearly, because I believe I may have discovered a way of finding out who they are."

"Ooh." Ziris placed her hands on the desk and leaned towards him eagerly. "Tell me more."

"The parchment you recovered from Goldenglow mentions a 'Gujul-Lei'," Mercer began, gesturing to where it sat on his desk. "According to my sources, that's an old alias used by one of our contacts. His real name is Gulum-Ei." He rolled his eyes to himself. "Slimy bastard."

Ziris nodded to herself. "He's the one with the… ties in Solitude, right? East Empire Company inside man?"

"That's the one," Mercer confirmed. "He must have acted as a go-between for the sale of the estate, and I'll bet he can finger our buyer."

"So, you want me to go find him, and… tease the name out of our scaly friend?" Ziris guessed.

"Tease, poke… stab. Whatever you need to do," Mercer growled. "Talk to Brynjolf before you leave if you have any questions."

With that, he turned back to his ledger, obviously dismissing her. Ziris wasn't done speaking with him just yet, however. She adjusted her weight against the desk to draw his attention again. When he looked up at her, she tilted her head.

"When we find out our mysterious Guild destroyer, what are we going to do to them?" she questioned.

"Is that any of your concern?" Mercer retorted.

"It should be, considering I'm doing all the footwork in trying to figure out who it is," Ziris replied, giving him a meaningful look.

Mercer took an obvious moment to relax, and then he looked at her again. "How about we focus on finding out their identity, first, and then we can discuss our plans for them?" he suggested. "Now, stop bothering me, and go do your job."

Ziris rolled her eyes to herself, and moved away from the desk, turning and glancing around the cistern. She didn't spot Brynjolf anywhere obvious, and she decided that any advice he had for her was worthless.

It was best for her to get off to Solitude now. She could sleep in the carriage on the way there.

She started for the ladder, only to stop when someone called her name. She turned, one hand on a rung and one foot up, to find Thrynn jogging up to her.

"Where are you off to now?" he asked.

"Solitude," she responded. "Have to deal with a…" She trailed off, and let out a breath, glancing him over. She knew what the East Empire Company was like, with all their burly ship guards. Thrynn might be a helpful addition to her task, if she ended up needing to fight her way out. "How about you just come with me?"

"What?" Thrynn looked surprised. "Are you sure? You never bring anyone with you on jobs."

Ziris considered that. _The only two thieves I'd work with are Mercer and Brynjolf, and I don't go on jobs with either of them for obvious reasons_ , she thought.

Thrynn didn't know that, however, and so she offered him a grin. "There's always a first time for everything." She gestured up the ladder with her head. "Come on."

She started up it herself, and nodded when she felt Thrynn climb up behind her. Things would go much smoother with him along. It was just one of those feelings.

The journey to Solitude was a long one, that lasted well into the night. Ziris slept for most of it, and when she awoke as the carriage they'd hired pulled up outside the farm just beyond Solitude's gates, she saw that Thrynn had fallen asleep as well.

She nudged him awake with her shoulder, and he blinked a bit, then stretched.

"Let's go," she murmured to him, and then climbed out of the carriage ahead of him.

Thrynn landed beside her, and Ziris led the way up towards the gates of Solitude. The sun was just barely rising over the mountains to the east, and she decided they could stand another hour or two of sleep, in an actual bed.

So, when they made it inside the city, she immediately headed for the Winking Skeever, and walked up to the bar, where a tired looking man stood with his arms crossed on top of it. He yawned by way of greeting her, and sleepily accepted the septims she offered him as payment for a room.

"The room with two beds is upstairs," he directed, waving his hand towards them.

Ziris nodded her gratitude, and led the way up the stairs. As soon as they found the room with the two beds, she settled down on the edge of one, and watched as Thrynn took a curious look around the room.

"What?" she asked him, slightly amused despite her drowsiness. "You've never been in an inn before?"

"No, I have," Thrynn answered, finally looking at her again. "It's just… this one is the biggest."

Ziris chuckled, and laid down, sighing in relief. "Get some more sleep," she advised him. "We most likely have a long day ahead of us, and I would like to be at least semi-conscious throughout it."

She heard Thrynn settle down on the other bed, and then she fell asleep.

When she awoke, a long line of sunlight was slanted across the floor of the room, and she bolted awake, noting its length, and how it did not resemble that of a sunbeam of late morning, but rather one of early afternoon.

"Thrynn!" she exclaimed, throwing a boot across the room at his sleeping form. It hit him square in the back, and he shot upright with a shout of surprise, grabbing for the boot himself, prepared to throw it back. When he blinked, and recognized her, however, he grunted and lowered it.

"What?" he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"We slept in a lot later than I thought we would," Ziris replied hastily, standing up and yanking on her other boot at the same time. She stumbled across the room to him, yanked the other from his hand, and pulled it on as well. "Get up," she ordered. "We need to get moving."

"Calm down," Thrynn mumbled, doing as she said nonetheless. "It can't be later than one o'clock or so. We'll be fine."

Ziris didn't know if she believed him or not, but she decided she'd rather not take any chances. She left him to get situated, and flew down the stairs of the inn, stopping dead when she spotted someone she didn't think she'd ever see again sitting at one of the tables on the first floor.

Hainin Marshal glanced up from the food he was eating, and blinked at her in surprise, before a guilty light entered his green eyes, and he turned his gaze downwards again.

Before she could say anything to him, however, someone else entered through the doors of the Winking Skeever, a young woman with brown hair.

"The execution is beginning," she said, and immediately, several of the patrons who were eating meals slid out from behind their tables and headed outside after her.

Ziris and Hainin exchanged another glance, then, on silent agreement, they both moved outside to see what execution the woman had meant.

When they stepped outside, Ziris blinked against the sunlight, and glanced upwards. The sun itself was barely past the halfway mark, and she let out a relieved breath. It wasn't as late as she'd originally thought.

She followed Hainin towards the crowd that was gathered before a stone platform of sorts, built into the wall of the city directly across from the inn. They stood together at the edge of it, and Ziris frowned when she saw the Nord standing before a headsman's block, dressed in tattered rags and with his hands bound.

 _Why are they killing off a Nord_? she wondered.

"Roggvir." She glanced towards the city guard that was standing up on the platform as well, and saw he was speaking to the prisoner. "You helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg."

Ziris blinked in amazement. _They're only just now executing him? My Gods._

"By opening that gate for Ulfric, you betrayed the people of Solitude," the guard went on.

Shouts rose up from the crowd around her and Hainin, including one of "Traitor!" and another of "He doesn't deserve to speak!"

Roggvir, however, stepped forward nonetheless, and looked out at his fellow citizens. "There was no murder!" he said. "Ulfric challenged Torygg. He beat the High King in fair combat!" Boos followed this declaration, but he went on above them: "Such is our way! Such is the ancient custom of Skyrim, and all Nords!"

The booing merely grew louder, and Ziris watched as Roggvir bowed his head. He allowed the guard to pull him over to the headsman's block, and lower him down to his knees behind it.

"On this day, I go to Sovngarde," he murmured to himself.

Ziris winced when he rested his head over the edge of the block, and closed her eyes right before she heard the heavy fall of the headsman's axe.

It was all done in less than a minute, and when she opened her eyes again, glancing towards her left, to where Hainin had been, she saw that he was gone.

She frowned to herself, and looked around at the slowly departing crowd. He was nowhere to be seen, and she decided that he wasn't worth looking for.

She turned, ready to head back into the inn and fetch Thrynn, but paused when she spotted another fairly familiar face headed that direction as well.

Both she and Cry Silverworthy came to a dead stop as their eyes met. Ziris noticed that the young Nord looked rather out of place in the city, with the worn armor she was wearing and the confused look in her eyes. She turned away from Ziris almost as soon as they'd noticed one another, and she disappeared.

Ziris sighed to herself, wondering what the Gods were plotting, why they had put the three of them all together in Solitude on this particular day.

She decided that it didn't matter as much as finding out who was trying to bring down the Guild, and she headed back into the Winking Skeever, ready to find Gulum-Ei and end her business in Solitude as quickly as possible.

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 **Also, this chapter was really short and I apologize. Think of it as the crappy Christmas present that you open before getting to the bigger ones.**


	12. Revelations of the First Kind

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

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 **And here we see the shining example of the rising action that's _just about_ to reach the climax. It's good. Some true colors are shown, and some words that are regretted later are shared. **

**Don't you just love drama?**

 **(Also this chapter is shorter than the ones I usually post by about 30 words and I apologize, but I couldn't give it all away. You'll just have to stick around to see the next one.)**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Thank you, friend! Enjoy this one as well.**

 **Guen: You're kind words are much appreciated! Here's the more you were hoping for.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Revelations of the First Kind**

* * *

"Gods," Vipir commented as Ziris managed to drop to the floor of the cistern from the ladder with only a minor curse at the pain that rushed up her side as soon as she did so. "What happened to you two?"

"There was a bit of an explosion," Thrynn grumbled in response when Ziris didn't. He'd been the first down the ladder, as he was in better shape than she was, and had been ready to catch her in case she lost her grip or footing, or just plain fainted on the way down.

"An explosion?" Ziris lifted her head when she heard Mercer's familiar drawl, and watched as he approached them, looking more bored than anything. Probably didn't want to show his curiosity to the others, let them know he actually felt emotion. "What happened?"

Ziris swallowed against what she was sure was ash that was lodged in her throat, and she gestured for him to follow her towards his desk. Thrynn helped her hobble her way in that direction, and then he made sure she was leaning safely against it before he took a respectful few steps back, to leave her and Mercer to talk in peace.

Ziris all but glared at Brynjolf as he came over to join them, but she couldn't exactly do anything about his presence.

Instead, she turned to Mercer. "Someone set up a trap for us in the East Empire Warehouse."

Mercer's expression didn't change. "And?"

"And… before we almost died, we were able to speak with Gulum-Ei, who… did die, by the way," she told him. She then swallowed again, and looked downwards. "You're not going to like this next bit, Mercer."

His eyes narrowed. "What did he tell you?"

Ziris squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, struggling to remain upright long enough to finish. "Karliah," she managed tiredly. "It's all been Karliah."

That was the last thing she knew, because after that, she fainted due to exhaustion and the pain in her side. Thankfully, Thrynn ran up fast enough to catch her before she could fall, and he silently carried her off to her bed, leaving Mercer and Brynjolf alone.

Mercer had barely noticed Ziris's fainting episode. As soon as she'd said the name he'd been dreading to hear, his vision had gone red. He turned his eyes to the floor and rested his hands on the desk, inhaling sharply. Everything he'd worked for, all these years, was ready to be washed away because of _her_. He should have known, should have assumed that all the time she'd spent running away, covering her tracks, was to ensure that she'd be free to enable his destruction, free to watch him fall and burn.

"Mercer?"

Oh, Brynjolf. Poor, pathetic Brynjolf, who had no idea of the truth, but would soon realize that the last twenty five years, had, in fact, been born entirely of lies. It appeared there was no other choice, at this point. Mercer had done as good of a job as he could, but it seemed that Karliah would finally achieve the thing she'd wanted for many years.

Mercer would have to leave the Guild.

Of course, that didn't mean he'd be leaving empty handed. Oh no, Karliah wouldn't have the last laugh, not quite yet. There was still a chance for him to escape from this unscathed.

Mercer looked up again at last, and glanced sideways at Brynjolf. He was watching him, obviously ready to take a quick step backwards if necessary.

Mercer exhaled the breath he'd been holding. "Is Ziris all right?" he asked him.

"Do… do you want me to check?" Brynjolf asked, sounding surprised. Obviously, that hadn't been what he'd expected to hear from Mercer after what Ziris had told them.

"No," Mercer responded, pushing himself upright. "I'll do it myself." Without saying anything else, he walked away from Brynjolf and headed across the cistern to where a crowd had gathered around Ziris's bed. They parted down the middle for him, however, and he stopped next to where she lay, glancing first at her, and then at Thrynn, who was squatting next to her.

"What happened?" Mercer asked him.

"I don't really know," Thrynn replied. "I just know that she went to talk to the lizard, and then an entire shelf of the boxes stored in the warehouse exploded." He shook his head. "I was barely able to get in there and grab her, but only after she was blasted backwards and landed on… something."

"So?" Mercer prompted.

"I think she broke a rib or two," Thrynn answered, "and I was afraid that'd she'd hit her head, so I kept her awake on the entire journey back. She probably fainted from exhaustion, more than anything." He sighed. "She has a pretty bad burn on her right side, from her shoulder down to her thigh. I think it's from the way she was facing when the explosion went off."

Mercer exhaled to himself and glanced around at the gathered thieves, who'd slowly drifted away a few steps each, pretending like they weren't interested in what was happening. He glanced back at Thrynn.

"Did you make her take a potion?" he questioned, and Thrynn nodded.

"We only had one."

Mercer cursed inwardly. One potion wouldn't heal her nearly fast enough. Without saying anything, he stalked back across the cistern, pulled open a drawer on his desk, and retrieved the tall potion bottle he kept in there for occasions when he'd need a healing mixture of this strength.

Ignoring the look Brynjolf was giving him, he crossed back over to Ziris's bed, pushed Thrynn out of the way, and crouched down next to Ziris's head. Without hesitating, he pulled the cork from the bottle, forced her mouth open, and poured half the potion down her throat.

Obviously, there was the bodily reaction of her choking the majority of it back up, but Mercer recovered for it by pouring the rest of it into her mouth, and closing it.

There was a few tense moments where he watched her swallow the potion, her throat constricting, and then he relaxed, leaning back.

If the potion was as strong as it was supposed to be, then she'd be awake within a few hours, rather than the few days he'd estimated the normal potion would get them. There were things the two of them needed to discuss, and it needed to happen as quickly as possible.

Hours passed, and Mercer paced restlessly around the cistern, starting first behind his desk, then around the edges of the room, and then at the foot of Ziris's bed. They were losing precious time, time he didn't need to be wasting when his future with the Guild was on the line.

He stopped pacing when there was movement on the bed for the first time since he'd made her take the potion, and then Ziris's eyes opened up wide, and she groaned, putting a hand against her forehead.

"Good, you're awake," Mercer grumbled, walking over to the side of the bed.

"For the most part," Ziris said, and then she placed a hand against her throat and swallowed dryly. "Could I get some water?"

When she'd gotten her drink, Mercer pulled up a chair beside her bed and folded his hands beneath his chin, looking at her. "I need to know anything else that Gulum-Ei might have told you before the explosion."

Ziris winced at the reminder. "I don't… remember much," she admitted wearily.

Mercer struggled not to get angry as soon as she said this. He inhaled and exhaled, and then closed his eyes for a moment. "Whatever you can think of," he said slowly. "It's very important."

Ziris let out a breath, and closed her own eyes. Her eyebrows drew together as she presumably went back to the meeting with Gulum-Ei, and Mercer waited as patiently as he could for her to remember anything.

"He… he said that she told him she was hiding out in 'the place where it all began'," she said quietly after a long minute of silence. Her eyes opened, and she looked at Mercer. "Do… do you know what that means?"

Mercer's expression had gone dark, his gaze fixated on a point she couldn't spot herself. "I know _exactly_ what it means," he said lowly. "Snow Veil Sanctum."

Ziris gazed at him, waiting for further explanation. Mercer let out a breath. "The place where she killed Gallus, and tried to kill me."

Ziris blinked. "That's… kind of dramatic, isn't it?" she asked, and he huffed something that would've been a laugh had he not been so angry.

"Karliah only knows how to be dramatic," he told her.

"What are we going to do, then?" Ziris queried, and Mercer finally looked at her.

"What do you mean, _we_?"

"I'm assuming that I'm coming with you, considering the two of us are the best fighters in the Guild, and… I imagine that Karliah isn't getting out of this alive," Ziris replied. She coughed. "Right?"

Mercer stared at her for a moment, seeming to consider it. After a time, he nodded. "Yes," he said, "you'll come with me."

"Good," Ziris stated, leaning back against her pillow. She crossed her arms. "We'll take care of her together, and then maybe the Guild will actually be able to become something again."

She and Delvin had been working together the past few months to try and gain a foothold in each hold again, using jobs and people with higher standing to do so. Ziris had gone on several 'special jobs', as Delvin called them, in each of the holds, and the people who'd given them to her had promised the Guild their support.

It hadn't counted for much at first, but then, slowly, merchants had begun to move back into the Ratway outside the Flagon. Ziris knew it was a sign of the Guild finally returning to what it had been before Gallus's death, and maybe, with Karliah gone for good, they would be able to take the final steps to secure the relationships they had in the other holds.

Karliah needed to be dealt with. That much was for sure.

Ziris turned to Mercer again. "So," she started, "what's the plan?"

"Right now, the plan is for you to get more rest, and heal," Mercer replied, standing up from his chair. "We can't go anywhere with you in your current state, and we'll have to travel to Snow Veil Sanctum after you feel better."

Ziris winced. "Isn't it going to be… y'know, snowy?" she asked, and Mercer offered her a look.

"Yes, little raven," he said slowly, "it's going to be snowy, and cold." He tilted his head, and, trying not to sneer, queried, "Do you think you can handle it?"

Ziris was already shivering, but she managed a nod. "Sure," she said. "I can handle it."

"Good," Mercer finished, picking up the chair he'd used in one hand. "I'll have someone bring you some food, and then I want you to go back to sleep." He pointed at her with his free hand. "You're not to leave this bed without someone helping you. Understand?"

Ziris sighed in exasperation. " _Yes_ ," she said, drawing out the word. "I'll stay right here."

Mercer nodded, and then he turned and walked off. She watched him converse first with Thrynn, who hurried over to the kitchen, and then he paused next to Brynjolf. The two of them headed towards Mercer's desk. Ziris let out a jealous grunt and shifted a bit.

A sharp pain immediately shot up her side, however, and she froze. Deciding moving wasn't the best idea, she settled back down against the pillow, and exhaled slowly. She'd thought that there wasn't any pain left, but it was starting to creep back in. Her right side itched terribly, and a glance down at her arm revealed that the burn she'd received from the explosion had gone right through her armor and marred her shoulder and forearm. A piece of leather was missing near her right hip, showing off more burns, and her thigh was badly scorched as well.

She could only imagine what she actually looked like, seeing the state of her arm and side.

Thrynn came over to her after a few minutes, holding a plate with a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread in one hand, and small health potion in the other.

"Oh, good," Ziris said, reaching for the food. "I'm starving."

Thrynn handed her the plate, and then set the potion down on the chest beside her bed, before examining her as she began to eat.

Ziris looked up at him. "What?"

"How do you feel?" he asked. "Mercer gave you a health potion that was in the biggest bottle I've ever seen."

"It hurts when I move," Ziris told him after considering it for a moment, and Thrynn smiled a bit. Ziris dunked some of the bread into the stew he'd brought her, and then she glanced up at him again. "Thank you, by the way."

"For the food?"

"For… getting me out of there," she responded. "I would probably be dead if you hadn't been so quick, and if you hadn't kept me awake like you did. So… thank you. I guess I owe you my life, don't I?"

Thrynn held up his hands. "That is not something I want hanging over my head. Don't worry about it."

"But -"

"Ziris." She let out a breath, and he grinned. "It isn't like I would've left you there."

"Still."

Thrynn sighed to himself. "I'm serious," he said. "Don't think too hard about it." He waved his hand at her food, and then at the health potion. "Finish eating, take that, and go to sleep, all right?"

Ziris offered him a grin. "All right," she agreed.

Thrynn left her alone to eat after that, and as she did so, several of the others came over to bother her instead. Sapphire and Rune inquired about how she felt, and she replied similarly to how she had to Thrynn, telling them that it only hurt if she did anything. Delvin wanted to know how long it would be before she could go on another job, and Ziris told him that she'd have to take a break for a few weeks. The others offered her their sympathies for her injuries, and she accepted them.

After that, she was finally alone again, although her stew was rather cold by that point. She ate it nonetheless, because she was hungry, and then she set the plate down on the floor and reached for the potion instead. She grunted as reaching put a strain on her ribs, and she exhaled sharply, settling back again.

"Need some help?" She glanced up to see Brynjolf standing at the foot of her bed. Rather than deny the fact that she couldn't move, she merely nodded. Brynjolf stepped forward and picked up the potion, then handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, pulling the cork out of the bottle. Brynjolf nodded, and watched her swallow the potion before he took the bottle back and set it down for her. Ziris shifted downwards so that her head was against her pillow, and she eyed him. "Do you need something else?"

"Are you sure you want to go to Snow Veil Sanctum with Mercer?" Brynjolf asked her, and Ziris refrained from immediately scowling at him in response. Brynjolf must've known that was going to be her reaction, however, because he offered her a look. "Don't. You understand why I'm asking."

"I'm going to feel fine by tomorrow," Ziris informed him, sounding a lot more confident than she currently felt.

Brynjolf didn't believe her, and he crossed his arms. "If you don't, you won't pretend like you do, will you?" Ziris offered a huff in response, and Brynjolf exhaled. "I just don't need you straining yourself to do something that any one of us could do instead."

"Oh, is that all?" Ziris inquired sourly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Brynjolf, that maybe you _couldn't_ do this." He raised an eyebrow, and Ziris mirrored it. "I'm a better fighter than you. I'm better at sneaking than you. Going after Karliah is going to require a high level of both of those things."

Brynjolf visibly restrained from rolling his eyes. "Fine," he said shortly. "Whatever you want."

He turned and stalked off. Ziris watched him go, and then she growled to herself and pulled her blanket up to her chin. It didn't matter what Brynjolf had to say; she was going to Snow Veil Sanctum even if she couldn't do anything more than stand upright.

It was time Karliah paid for all she'd done to the Guild by killing Gallus.

* * *

 **And so we see Ziris and Brynjolf part on not the best of terms.**

 **Next we see Ziris and Mercer, they will be on their way to Snow Veil Sanctum, for what will assuredly be the ultimate showdown.**

 **Or will it?**


	13. The Shadow-Sense

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **Watching _Moana_ as I edit this, and I'm wondering if maybe I should've cut this chapter in half... **

**Oh well. The last two chapters were kind of short, so this is fine. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **P: Thank you for reviewing both chapters, friend! It makes me happy when my phone vibrates with an email about a review on one of my stories. I'm not sure that Brynjolf is being any less stubborn than Ziris, too be honest with you... but still, we'll see how he reacts to certain events soon enough.**

 **Guest: I can't wait either, but, unfortunately, it won't be making an appearance until next chapter. Stick around for it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: The Shadow-Sense**

* * *

"So… I understand why we have to kill Karliah," Ziris began, following Mercer around the cistern as he made some last minute finalizations before they left, "but… why do you seem so worried?"

"I'm not worried," Mercer retorted over his shoulder.

"You're bringing me along with you," Ziris pointed out. "If you weren't the tiniest bit concerned, you'd be going by yourself."

"That's not why I'm bringing you whatsoever," Mercer told her. "I'm bringing you because Karliah and I used to work closely together. Gallus taught us both at the same time, and we knew everything about the other. We watched each other's backs, fought with one another… I know all Karliah's tricks, and, in turn, she knows all of mine."

"Aren't all your tricks my tricks?" Ziris questioned.

"Yes," Mercer said, as patiently as he could manage, "but isn't two using our tricks against one using our tricks the best option?"

Ziris nodded after a moment's thought. "All right, I see what you're saying." She paused. "But I still think you're worried."

Mercer rolled his eyes to himself, and slid behind his desk. Ziris knew better than to follow him there, and she remained standing across it from him, watching as he ruffled through one of the drawers. He didn't find whatever he was looking for, and he slammed it shut, before turning a glare towards her.

"I am _not_ worried, and you shouldn't be, either," he told her.

"Why would I be worried?" Ziris asked, taken aback.

"I don't know, which makes me wonder why you believe I am," Mercer retorted, moving out from behind the desk again. "Now, are we going or not?"

"I was waiting for you," Ziris informed him, and Mercer huffed, then gestured in the direction of the ladder. Ziris headed that way.

Mercer glanced around for Brynjolf. The redhead was waiting quietly nearby, arms crossed. He approached, however, when Mercer waved him over.

"Keep an eye on everything," he murmured under his breath, watching Ziris glance back towards them. Her face hardened, and she quickly darted up the ladder. Mercer looked back at Brynjolf. "I mean it."

"I know," Brynjolf responded easily, although his eyes were dark. "Don't let Karliah get away again."

Mercer didn't bother responding that he didn't need to be told.

Once they were both up on the surface, Mercer led the way out of Riften. He didn't even pause as they passed the stables, and he started directly down the road, heading north. Ziris hurried after him, impressed with his speed.

"So," she started, catching up with them as the ground began to turn white with snowfall, and the trees began to disappear, "you've gotten special permission from the Dark Brotherhood to kill Karliah, hmm?"

"I don't need permission," Mercer grumbled under his breath without looking at her. "I have a long-standing arrangement with the Brotherhood. If I need someone in the Guild taken care of, we do it ourselves." He glanced sideways at her. "I know what you're thinking, so don't bother saying it. Karliah was once a member of the Guild, and therefore she is our responsibility."

Ziris turned her gaze to the ground, grateful that her boots always kept her sure-footed, no matter the terrain. "You told me that you and Karliah were… fairly close," she said carefully. "How close, exactly?"

Mercer exhaled through his nose. "Karliah and I were partners," he said simply. "Gallus trained the both of us together, and therefore, we knew how the other operated."

"What was she like?"

"She was a stubborn Dunmer," Mercer began, and Ziris listened as his voice seemed to take on a faraway tone, and she knew he was remembering. "We always had to do everything _her_ way." Here, he glanced sideways at her. "She was also the best… bringing in more coin a month than some thieves heist in a year."

"I don't understand how… how she could've killed Gallus, if he was her mentor."

"He wasn't just her mentor," Mercer growled. "He ended up trusting her _too_ much, and let her get too close."

Ziris frowned. "Did they have a relationship?"

Mercer snorted. "If you want to call it that. I think she was softening him for the kill."

Ziris returned her gaze to the ground, and considered it. She knew how it felt to love someone, and if Gallus and Karliah had really been in a relationship, she doubted it was for Karliah's benefit alone. She didn't know anyone who would pretend to love someone just to get further ahead, doubted that even Gallus's killer was capable of that.

So, if Karliah _had_ loved Gallus, why would she have killed him?

Ziris supposed she would never know, or if she did, it would only be if Mercer gave her a chance to ask Karliah first, before he killed her.

The sun was setting when they finally crossed into Eastmarch, and neared Windhelm's walls. Mercer took a glance up at the sky and determined it was best if they got a room at the inn in the city for the night.

Ziris wholeheartedly agreed, for it was flurrying and she could use a mug of warm ale and a nice, cozy bed.

She ducked into Candlehearth Hall behind the Guild Master, and waited patiently as he haggled for a room. When he'd paid his ten coins, she followed him down the hall, listening as he grumbled about the ridiculous price.

"Mercer," she began after they'd each claimed a bed, and Mercer was beginning to exit the room to retrieve some food for himself.

He paused in the doorway, and glanced backwards at her, an eyebrow lifted. Ziris studied her feet for a moment, and then she glanced up at him. "Did…" She trailed off and rephrased: "Gallus loved Karliah?"

"He'd call her his 'little nightingale'," Mercer replied after a moment. "I'd say he was smitten, if nothing else." He shook his head in disgust.

"But you don't think she loved him?" He shook his head again. "Why would she have killed him?"

"Who can say?" Mercer asked gruffly. "Greed? Jealousy? Spite? I don't know, and at the present moment, I could care less. What I do care about is getting something hot to eat and drink. If you'd like to join me, I'd ask that you keep any further questions to yourself." With that, he stormed from their rented room, leaving Ziris to remain where she was on the edge of her bed, and wonder just how close the three thieves had been, before Karliah had done what she did.

She glanced towards the shadow that was against one wall, cast by the candles flickering on top of the single dresser against the wall between the two beds. It wavered as she shifted.

"The ever present shadows," she said, smiling a bit. "You haven't spoken to me in sometime. Why is that?"

"Perhaps they have nothing to share." Ziris jumped to her feet and whirled around to face the doorway of the room. A man in dark robes was leaning against the wall there, eyeing her, his head tilted. The hood of his robes was down, and Ziris took in his features, noting him as a Dunmer.

"Who are you?" she demanded, feeling defensive. He'd just heard her talking to shadows, after all. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled a bit at that. "That same as you, I imagine," he said. "Escaping the snow outside, warming myself by the fire upstairs." His head tilted in the other direction. "Waiting to hear what the shadows have to say."

Ziris gazed at him warily. "Who are you?" she asked again, and his smiled grew.

"My name is Vanrus. I am a Priest of Nocturnal, and I believe our Mother of Night has led me to you, thief."

Ziris was about to ask how he knew she was a thief, but then she remembered that she was wearing her Guild armor, and she swallowed the question back down.

Instead, she turned her attention to his title. "There are priests of Nocturnal?"

Ziris knew very little of the Daedric Prince. What she did know, she'd learned mostly from Delvin, and a lot of it had been spewed while he was very drunk. If he was to be believed, Nocturnal was worshipped by thieves and spies alike, being a patron of the darkness and shadows. Apparently, the Guild in Cyrodiil worshipped her like a Divine.

Ziris had a feeling the Skyrim branch of the Guild didn't do the same for a reason named Mercer Frey, otherwise known as the least religious person Ziris had ever met.

"Not as many priests as we'd like," Vanrus told her, taking a step into the room, "but… yes, there are. We tend to the small shrines that others like us have created throughout the years, and we listen to the shadows, so that our lady's words may reach the mortal realm." He dipped his head to her. "I have a feeling that she has led me to you."

Ziris gave him a skeptical look. "Didn't you just say that the shadows might not have anything to tell me?"

Vanrus laughed. "I think our meeting may have to do with something else. Knowing that you can hear the shadows as well… that gives me cause to wonder just what Nocturnal has planned for a thief such as you, one who has the shadow-sense."

"The _shadow-sense_? What in the name of the Eight Divines is that?"

Vanrus's head tilted in the direction of the shadow, and he gazed at her for a moment without speaking. When he did, however, he smiled again. "The shadows are unsurprised to hear that you do not understand, knowing who raised you, by all rights."

Ziris glanced at the shadows, and then back at the dark elf. "They know who Mercer is?"

"Oh, yes," Vanrus replied. "The shadows are well acquainted with your mentor, thief, perhaps even more so than you are."

Ziris felt as though she should be surprised to hear this, but she wasn't. "The Guild isn't very religious," she said after a moment, watching Vanrus as he approached the shadow. It seemed to stretch as he neared it, as though greeting him. "I know that the Guild in Cyrodiil is, however."

"That they are," Vanrus responded warmly, sounding pleased that she knew as much. "Prior to the death of your previous Guild Master, there was quite a bit of worship for the Night Mistress from a few of your fellow thieves." He glanced at her. "Would you like to know more?"

Ziris gazed at him, wondering what he meant. Then she remembered that Mercer was right upstairs, and wondered what his reaction would be, if he came down here and found her conversing with a Priest of Nocturnal about the Guild's past.

So, she shook her head. "I probably shouldn't."

Vanrus didn't seemed surprised. "You do not want to know the truth," he said.

"The truth…?"

Vanrus walked over to where she stood beside her bed, and rested the tips of his fingers against her forehead for a moment, murmuring something in another language under his breath. When he moved away, Ziris had to take a moment as the ground swayed beneath her feet, and her vision flashed in and out of focus.

When she'd regained her senses, Vanrus was gone, and Mercer was standing in the doorway instead, scowling at her.

"Are you coming to eat, or am I going to have to deal with your complaining tomorrow?" he ground out, and Ziris shook her head.

"Right behind you."

Mercer glared at her for another moment, and then he disappeared again. Ziris made sure her feet were firmly on the ground before going after him, wondering who Vanrus was, and what he'd just done to her.

* * *

 _Where am I_?

Ziris sat up from where she was laying on a grassy knoll, and glanced around. She knew this place, had been across this part of the Rift several times on her way into Ivarstead for a job. She recognized the stream that was trickling nearby, and the rock that someone was seated on, not too far away from where she was.

She climbed to her feet, wondering why she wasn't in Candlehearth Hall, as she should have been, and wondered if she should approach the figure that was seated on the rock.

Before she could make up her mind, however, someone appeared from over a rise in the distance. "Mercer!" a light, pretty voice called, and Ziris instinctively dropped into a crouch, to avoid being seen for as long as possible.

The figure appearing from the distance picked up their pace to a jog, and Ziris watched as they came to a halt in front of the person on the rock. She could see that the newcomer was a young dark elf woman, with hair so black it seemed highlighted with purple. She was smiling warmly, and Ziris frowned to herself when she spotted the dark, curved bow on her back.

There was only one person this could be.

 _Karliah_.

Karliah paused in front of the figure on the rock, who was, apparently, Mercer, if Karliah's call had proven anything. The Dunmer placed a hand on her hip, and gave him a playful scowl, before she burst into another warm grin.

"Why do you always look so angry?" she asked him. "Shouldn't you be excited? Gallus is showing us the Hall today."

 _Hall_?

Ziris watched as Mercer stood up with an all-too-familiar grunt, and walked away from Karliah towards the stream, his back remaining turned in Ziris's direction.

"You're too excited," he informed Karliah. "We're going to be bounding our souls to a Daedra, for Gods' sakes."

" _And_ we're going to be declared full-fledged Nightingales in the process," Karliah said sharply, her grin fading. "Don't pretend you're not even the _slightest_ bit excited."

Mercer grunted again, and Karliah's eyes drifted around. Ziris stiffened when they turned in her direction, but they passed right over her, as though she weren't there.

Confused, she sat up, and watched as the dark elf followed Mercer towards the stream.

 _Can they not see me_?

Deciding to take a chance, she stood and walked closer to them. Neither reacted to her presence, and she decided that they definitely could not see her, and didn't know she was there.

 _I must be dreaming_ , Ziris decided.

"And you're a mess!" Karliah was saying. Ziris watched as she reached over and began to rake her fingers through Mercer's hair, a lighter shade of brown than it was now, and without the streaks of gray that had come from twenty five years of being a Guild Master.

Ziris's mentor stood stock still as Karliah fussed over him, doing her best to wrangle his wild hair into a presentable state. When she'd arranged it as best as she could, Karliah rotated him by the shoulders, and Ziris blinked as she caught sight of his face for the first time.

All signs of age were gone, although his eyes were still dark, and as serious as they were now, just without the familiar scowl lines around the edges. He stared stonily at Karliah as the Dunmer fussed over a few dirt marks on his cheeks, and his thin layer of stubble.

"You couldn't have shaved, at least?" she asked him with a huff, and Mercer scowled.

Ziris couldn't help herself; she smiled.

"I just got back from a job in Markarth," Mercer grumbled to Karliah. "I didn't exactly have time."

"I know, I know," Karliah said apologetically. She took a step back. "I tried to ask Gallus to hold off for another day, but it's the 3rd of Hearth Fire, and he said it's today, or we have to wait another year." She leaned forward onto her toes, hands fluttering excitedly at her sides. "I didn't think you'd want to wait, and I surely don't." She reached forward, and tucked the collar of Mercer's tunic down under his leather armor. "There, now I think you're ready."

Just in time, too, apparently, for another figure appeared over the rise. Both Mercer and Karliah changed demeanors as whoever it was approached, and Ziris blinked when the person drew closer.

The Imperial was young, like Mercer and Karliah. He had dark hair like the Dunmer, and even from where Ziris stood some distance away, she could see the playful glint in his eyes. He had the same lopsided smile that Brynjolf always carried, the one that made her heart ache every time she saw it.

And, just like Brynjolf did on occasion, he pushed a hand through his raven black hair, and paused before the two thieves, holding himself easily.

"I see the two of you are ready," he commented, glancing over them both.

The two thieves nodded, Karliah more eagerly than Mercer. Ziris watched as Gallus, for who else could he be, grinned wider, and gestured with his hand.

"Follow me, then," he invited warmly. "We have quite a trek to make."

Karliah nodded eagerly again, and took the lead as the three of them headed away from Ziris, down the hill, following the stream. Ziris had to jog to keep up with them, falling into pace behind Mercer and Gallus, who remained behind Karliah a few steps.

"She's very excited," Gallus was noting as he watched the young Dunmer prance along ahead of them.

Mercer didn't respond, and Gallus glanced sideways at him. "Are you having second thoughts, my friend?"

"I wouldn't say that," Mercer gurmbled. "I just don't know how much to believe of what you've said. I've heard stories of the powers that Nocturnal can offer, but I've also heard stories of the things she can take away."

"Stories are exactly that, Mercer," Gallus told him.

"Nightingales are meant to be a story, too," Mercer said.

Gallus laughed, and Ziris's heart ached for an entirely different reason as she watched the three thieves disappear into the trees to the west of Riften, finding that she couldn't follow them beyond the line.

She turned around, and was surprised to find she was standing in the Ragged Flagon, now, instead of at the edge of the woods. She was standing near the bar, and someone who wasn't Vekel, but looked a lot like him, stood behind it.

"Gallus, did Mercer tell you what I did up in Windhelm?"

Ziris turned at the voice, and saw Gallus and Karliah were seated at the table that she and Delvin often used for their card games. Karliah was leaning on the edge of her chair, about three seconds away from being in Gallus's lap.

"He told me you were able to make two of the guards fight with one another," Gallus replied with a slight smile, his eyes glowing at he watched her.

"I did!" Karliah said gleefully. "And, while that was happening, Mercer was able to slip into the shadows and steal that urn with no problems at all."

"It's good to know that the two of you are working together with your abilities," Gallus told her, and Karliah nodded.

"I understand, now, why Nocturnal doesn't give one thief every possible skill that she can," she said. "I don't know how a thief would be able to concentrate on making two people fight one another, while still being able to turn into a shadow and disappear without a trace. It'd take a lot more concentration than any normal person has, that's for sure."

Gallus started to respond, but Ziris's attention was drawn instead by Mercer, who'd just appeared from the tunnel leading into the cistern, and was walking towards the table. The two thieves already there greeted him warmly, but other than that, they ignored him as he sat down across from them, returning to their own conversation.

Ziris didn't miss the way Mercer's eyes darkened, and she watched as he cracked open a bottle of ale without taking his eyes off of them. She took a small step backwards, feeling as though this was something she didn't want to see.

She turned around, again, and found herself standing in the courtyard behind the Temple of Mara instead. A quick glance around revealed Gallus and Mercer walking together nearby. Gallus was speaking lowly, and Ziris approached them so that she could hear what was being said.

"You've been at the Sepulcher quite a lot lately."

"I've been thinking about some things," Mercer replied. "Trying to clear my head."

"Hmm." From Gallus's tone, Ziris decided that he didn't believe Mercer one bit, and she followed the thieves into a shadowy corner of the courtyard, watching as Gallus pushed a hand through his hair. Mercer kept his gaze steadily on the Guild Master, even when Gallus looked up and met his eyes.

"Is everything all right, Mercer?" he asked, and Mercer nodded.

"Of course."

"I only ask because… because I know what you've been up to, at the Sepulcher." Ziris leaned forward, and frowned when Gallus's eyes hardened. "I've told you before not to touch the Key."

"I put it back," Mercer said shortly as a response, clearly dismissing what was meant to be a scolding. "Don't look at me like that, Gallus. I'd deserve it if I hadn't, but I did." He shrugged. "I only wanted to try it out."

"You do not want to deal with Nocturnal's wrath, Mercer," Gallus told him. "If she were to decide to punish you, punish us…" The Guild Master shook his head. "You promised to _protect_ the Key, same as Karliah and I. If you were to move it again, or, Gods forbid, _lose_ it, she would not be so quick to dismiss your actions. She might even wreak havoc on the Guild." Gallus fixed Mercer with a serious look. "That isn't something you want, is it?"

Mercer didn't even blink. "Of course not."

"Then why play with fire?" Gallus asked him. "Leave the key alone, and Nocturnal will in turn leave the Guild alone." He reached forward and rested his hand on Mercer's shoulder. "That's all I ask of you, my friend."

Ziris waited, watching Mercer's face. She saw nothing change as he dipped his head. "I'm sorry, Gallus," he said. "I was only curious, that's all. I won't touch the Key again."

Gallus's easy-going grin returned, any sign of anger or disappointment that had previously existed on his face evaporating.

"Good," he said. "That's all I wanted to hear. Besides, I'm sure Nocturnal will forgive your curiosity. It is an interesting thing, the Skeleton Key."

He shook Mercer's shoulder playfully, and gestured with his head. "Come," he invited. "Let's get back down to the cistern."

Mercer nodded, and then he and Ziris watched as Gallus headed for the hidden entrance ahead of him. Ziris's head was starting to ache, and she blinked as the vision before her began to disappear, and she could feel herself falling. A bright light flashed somewhere in the distance, and she struggled to clamber up through the darkness towards it.

As she swam through the shadows in its direction, she could faintly hear a dark cursing, and then the sound of a snapping branch. Then, Mercer's voice, speaking words that twisted something cold inside of her: " _Damn the Guild, and damn them both."_

* * *

"Fucking things…"

Ziris's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself looking up at Mercer, whose eyebrows were drawn together. He had candles in both hands, and his mouth seemed to be twisted in something similar to worry.

The worry faded, however, when a scowl took over as he realized she was awake.

"Sit up," he commanded, and Ziris did so, faintly aware that she was shaking like a leaf in wind. Mercer shoved one of the candles into her steadier hand, and wrapped first the blanket from her bed, and then the one from his around her.

Without saying anything else, he rubbed her shoulders roughly, until Ziris could feel her arms again. The candle she was gripping warmed her fingers and hands, and she exhaled, watching as her breath created a white cloud in the air before her mouth.

She watched it fade in amazement, and then she looked at Mercer in question.

His scowl was the darkest thing she'd ever seen. "You were covered in shadows," he growled under his breath, still rubbing feeling back into her limbs. He crouched down on the floor in front of her bed, and began to rub at her thighs instead, looking at her all the while. "They drew all the heat out of you. If you'd been stuck inside of them for another five minutes…"

"Shadows…?" Ziris was confused, and she imagined her face must have showed it, because Mercer let out a frustrated sigh.

"Yes. You know, the things that objects make when light hits them a certain way."

Ziris wasn't so out of it that she didn't have the sense not to roll her eyes. "I know what a shadow is, Mercer." She looked down at the candle, watching the flame flicker. "I just don't get what you were saying. They were… covering me?"

He nodded, moving his hands down to her calves. Ziris winced as he massaged them roughly, clearly wanting to get this part of his task over with as quickly as possible.

"You've got the fucking shadow-sense," he grumbled under his breath. "I can't believe I didn't realize it before."

"You know what it is?" she demanded, and he looked up at her, something unspoken glinting in his eyes.

"I don't understand it," he said after a moment, returning to his business of rubbing her legs. He moved down to her feet, and Ziris relaxed as feeling began to return to her toes. "You've never…" He trailed off, and shook his head in frustration.

"I've never _what_?" she asked him.

Mercer's hands went still again, and he glanced up at her after a moment. They stared at each other without saying anything, and then he huffed under his breath and looked back down. "I suppose it makes sense," he said. "You are one of the best damn thieves in Tamriel. It doesn't surprise me that they know you."

"The shadows?" He grunted by way of confirmation, and Ziris let out a breath. "Will they ever go away?"

"No," he replied after a moment.

"Do you see them?"

"Yes."

"... can Karliah?"

Mercer's hands left her feet entirely at this, and he turned his gaze to her face. Ziris stared back without speaking, and he slowly offered her a nod. "She can speak with them," he said darkly, "which makes me believe there is no way that she doesn't know we are coming."

He stood up and took the candle from her, setting it on top of the dresser. Then, he turned to face her again. "Stay here, and try to walk around a bit, get your blood flowing that way," he ordered. "I'll be right back."

Ziris did as he said, and as she waddled around the room on stiff legs, she thought about what she'd seen.

Obviously, Mercer hadn't appreciated how close Karliah and Gallus were, and, obviously, Mercer's actions with the 'Skeleton Key', whatever that was, were not approved of by Gallus, and that made Mercer angry.

 _But what does it all mean_?

Mercer returned after a few minutes, with a cup of steaming something, and he pushed it in her direction. Ziris took it without arguing, and took a long drink. The ale settled happily in her belly, and she sank down on the edge of her bed with a relieved exhale.

They were silent as she finished off her cup, and, as she set it down on the dresser, Ziris glanced sideways at her mentor. Mercer was studying the floor of the inn, but he glanced up when her gaze settled on him.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"She's not taking sides," Ziris said.

"Who?"

"Nocturnal."

Mercer's gaze darkened. "What do you know about Nocturnal?"

"Not much," Ziris said quickly. "I just…" She trailed off and debated telling him about Vanrus. After a moment, she decided against it, and she shrugged. "Delvin's mentioned her once or twice, that's all. I assumed that she's the one in charge of the shadows."

Mercer stared at her for a moment. "They're hers, yes," he said slowly, "but they're not her puppets. Shadows speak to whoever they want to, and, for some reason, they're speaking to both you and Karliah."

Ziris bit the inside of her cheek. "That's how Daedra work," she said. "They let things happen, and then they interfere whenever they want."

Mercer didn't seem to be listening. Instead, he was studying one of the corners of the room, where a shadow was cowering away from the light of the candles that he'd lit around the room.

"What?" Ziris asked him, and Mercer glanced back at her.

"Do they show you things?"

Ziris blinked, suddenly wary. She didn't want to tell him what she'd seen while she was asleep. "Y-yes," she said slowly. "Usually, though -"

"Usually?" Mercer's gaze hardened. "Has this happened before?"

"I hadn't seen anything before," Ziris said quickly. "When I was younger, though, they talked to me." She spared a look at him, and winced when she saw the expression on his face. "It didn't happen a lot, only when I was feeling lonely, or unsure of something."

"Karliah told me once that they would give her advice," Mercer said after a moment.

"Uhm…" Ziris tilted her head and scratched at the back of her neck. "I guess you could say they did that once or twice."

Mercer exhaled sharply, and gestured towards the shadows. "Do you think they'd show you something, or talk to you, if you were to ask them to?"

"I don't know," Ziris said with a shrug. "I've never tried." She frowned at him. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that we may be able to learn what Karliah is doing to prepare for our arrival," Mercer responded. He glanced between her and the shadows. "What would you need to do?"

Ziris slowly stood up, and approached the shadowy corner. It seemed to stretch out towards her slightly, despite the light in the room, and she stopped at its edge.

"I guess… I guess I can just… touch it…" She slowly reached out her hand, ready to place it in the darkness, but before she could, there was a sharp tug on her shoulder, pulling her backwards and around.

She looked up at Mercer in confusion, and frowned when she saw how hard his eyes were.

"Do not put yourself in danger if you can avoid it," he warned.

"That's the thing; I don't know if I can," Ziris said quietly. "Since when do you worry about my safety?"

Mercer, who still had one hand clenched on her shoulder, slowly released his grasp and took a step back.

"Do what you need to," he said lowly, "but I would like to avoid you turning blue, again."

Ziris nodded, noting he'd avoided answering her question. She turned back to the shadow, and inhaled before sliding her hand from the light into the darkness.

Immediately, a sharp bolt of ice shot up through her arm, and her vision went dark.

When she could see again, she found herself standing in a darkened corridor. She could only see faint outlines of sconces that were attached to the walls. She didn't know where she was, exactly, but she knew that she really didn't want to be there.

Her attention was drawn by a flickering light that came from one direction of the corridor. She turned that way, and frowned when she saw Karliah appear, holding a candle in one hand.

She carried it past where Ziris was standing, and leaned up on her toes to light the sconce. Immediately, the corridor filled with light, and Ziris jumped backwards when she found herself standing on top of what seemed to be a rib cage.

Karliah kept going down the corridor, and Ziris hurried after her, wanting to know where she was going. The Dunmer was clearly older than she had been in Ziris's first visions, for lines of age creased her forehead and the area around her eyes. She walked with a small gait as well, something Ziris hadn't noticed before. Had she suffered from an injury that caused it?

Karliah walked down the corridor until she reached a room that had gates on both sides of it. Ziris hesitated on the edge of the room when she saw all the bones that were strung up on the ceiling, to act as what Ziris was sure were alarms.

Karliah didn't seem to mind making noise, for she walked directly into the room, stepping gingerly over two shapes that were on the floor, to reach another sconce.

Ziris, curious about the things on the floor, carefully slid into the room, making sure to avoid the bone chimes hanging above her, even though she had a fairly good idea that she couldn't make them move, even she if she wanted to.

She stopped next to the form just as Karliah reached the sconce, and crouched down next to it. When the room filled with the soft light of the candle, however, Ziris fell backwards away from the shape.

It was a dead body, and it appeared to have been dead for a long time. In fact, it didn't even look like a person anymore.

 _What_ is _that_?

Before she could inspect further, however, the room went dark. Ziris blinked at the sudden lack of light, and she spun around, trying to find Karliah in the darkness.

She found herself suddenly rushing forward, into a different chamber. This one was lit with the soft glow of dawn through cracks in the rock ceiling, and was vacant of everything aside from a still body on the stone floor before her. Ziris hesitated a moment before taking a small step towards it, and she let out a gasp when she recognized the face on the body.

 _Gallus_!

The Imperial had a very obvious wound on his side, and blood was trickling out of his mouth. He coughed, weakly, as he appeared to gaze up at her with lidded eyes. It wasn't until a moment later that she realized he wasn't looking at her, but someone who was standing behind her.

"Why?" he asked weakly, his eyes trained on whoever it was.

Ziris could see now that there were countless other slashes marring the front of his armor, aside from the single one on his side.

 _Karliah uses a bow_ , she thought, recalling her vision from before. _Mercer told me that she didn't use a sword if she could avoid it. Why is Gallus cut up like this_?

She prepared to turn, to see whoever it was behind her that Gallus was staring at, but before she could, the shadows dropped her from the chamber, and she landed with a sharp gasp on the floor of her room in Candlehearth Hall.

Breathing heavily, and shivering, she looked around for Mercer, and found him staring at her from where he sat on the edge of her bed.

"All right?" he asked gruffly, and she nodded vacantly, doing her best to stand.

After a moment of watching her struggle, Mercer rose and walked over to assist her. He then led her over to her bed, and sat her down, crouching down in front of her.

"What did you see?"

"She's setting traps, and alarms," Ziris said, wrapping her blanket tightly around her shoulders. "She definitely knows that we're coming." She winced, and described the dead body that she'd seen on the floor while Karliah was lighting the candles, and Mercer nodded to himself.

"Draugr," he said. "Not surprising, considering Snow Veil Sanctum is an ancient Nordic ruin. The thing you saw has probably been under there for hundreds of years, and was cursed by the old magic within its walls, which brought it back to life. Karliah must have killed it."

He gave Ziris a steady look. "We'll need to make sure we don't wake up anymore of them." She nodded, and he tilted his head. "Is that all?"

"I just know that she's strung up bone chimes, at the very least," Ziris responded. "I don't doubt that she's reactivating any traps that are already down there, and maybe creating some of her own."

"She'd be stupid not to," Mercer agreed, "and Karliah is far from stupid." He seemed to consider something for a moment, and then he nodded. "Fine. We'll just have to be extremely cautious."

"Good thing we're used to that," Ziris mumbled, suddenly feeling very tired.

Mercer glanced at her, and sighed. "Get some rest," he advised, standing and going to light another candle. He moved this one to the foot of her bed, and set it on the table there. "You should be all right for the rest of the evening."

"Thank you," Ziris said quietly, scooting up on her bed. She laid down, and Mercer tugged his own blanket out from under her, then returned to his bed.

Ziris was asleep before he could lay back down, her dreams filled with reflections of what the shadows had shown her.

* * *

 **So that was pretty good, right? I think so.**

 **Keep an eye out for another one of those one-shot thingermabobs. This one takes place around the same time as this chapter, so it'll be an interesting read.**

 **Check it out when you find the time.**


	14. Snow Veil Sanctum and the Aftermath

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **Oddly enough, I'm hating this Fiction more and more as I continually re-read it. You'd think it would grow on me, but... nope, just starting to dislike it even more than I did when I was in the process of writing it.  
**

 **Huh. I wonder why that is.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guen: We'll see what happens between Brynjolf and Ziris. I think future events might end up pulling them together again.**

 **Guest: Thank youuuuuuuu, friendship! Here's the next.**

 **Manu: Amazing? Huh, I don't know if I'd use that word, but thank you, nonetheless. And, yes, I think you'll find that the truth is going to be reveal very shortly. Cross your fingers that everything turns out okay.**

 **P: Thanks! I imagine that it's something only super good thieves are bless with, or people who were born to be thieves, like Ziris.**

 **JD98: Thank you! Happy to see you join the party! Keep coming back for more!**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Snow Veil Sanctum and the Aftermath  
**

* * *

Snow Veil Sanctum was certainly what Ziris thought a Nordic ruin should look like, at least on the surface. The stone circle of the walls of the surface building rose ominously over the snow, black against the white.

Mercer stopped a bit away from the shape in the distance, and stared at it. Ziris glanced between him, and it.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Memories," he said dismissively with a sharp shake of his head. "Let's go."

Ziris followed him across the snowy plain to the ruin, and then down a set of steps leading to a door that, unsurprisingly, was closed, and locked.

Mercer snorted when Ziris shoved against it, and then he shouldered her out of the way. "These doors look imposing," he started, reaching into a pouch on his belt and withdrawing something, "but they're actually fairly simple to open if you know what you're doing."

Since Mercer knew what he was doing, he had the door open within thirty seconds, and, together, they slid into the ruin.

For the first part of their expedition, sunlight and fresh air were able to reach them through small circles in the ceiling, but as they approached a staircase leading deeper into the ruin, Ziris got the sinking sensation that natural lighting and air that wasn't completely stale would no longer be a luxury afforded to them.

Mercer hesitated at the top of the stairs, and peered down into the darkness that swallowed the bottom of them. He then sniffed, and leaned over, neatly plucking an already lit candle from the wall, and handing it to her.

"Keep that low," he told her. "It might be the only source of light we have as we get deeper."

Ziris nodded submissively, and then followed after him as he crept down the stairs, making sure to keep the candle visible, but out of the open air as much as possible.

They made it through several chambers that looked as though they were just waiting to burst with draugr, and Ziris's nose wrinkled from the smell as they entered a tomb-like area, where coffins were stacked upon one another from floor to ceiling. She hadn't been able to smell the draugr in her vision, but now she knew it smelled exactly what it should have smelled like.

Dead, rotten flesh.

Mercer was the picture perfect thief as he crept through the tomb and it's many pathways made by the stacks of coffins. He crouched so low to the ground, and so close to the shadows that Ziris would have lost sight of him had it not been for how closely she was following after him with the candle.

He also seemed to sense exactly where the traps that were waiting for them lay, and he warned her of them as they neared them, muttering things like "Pressure plates" and "Tripwire" every few chambers.

Ziris was glad she was with him, but she imagined that he could have easily handled at least this part of the journey on his own.

The fight with Karliah… that would be a different story, she imagined.

After passing through a room that had looked to have been some kind of throne hall at one point, Mercer stopped for the first time since the stairs.

Ziris glanced forward through the darkened doorway ahead of them, and then at him.

"What is it?"

"Karliah's close," he muttered under his breath. "I can feel it."

Hearing this, Ziris felt her pulse quicken. She turned her gaze back to the darkness ahead of them, and she grinned.

"What do you say we go in there and end this, then?" she suggested.

Beside her, Mercer snorted what Ziris imagined was agreement, and he started forward again. Ziris followed.

They entered a long hallway that was already lit up by braziers on either side, and Mercer rose from his crouch.

Ziris set the candle down and did the same, glancing at the images on one side of the corridor.

As Mercer made his way to the large door at the other end, she approached the wall, and touched the carvings there with her fingertips.

The carvings depicted a group of three, that were covered head to toe in armor or capes or something. All three were crouched at the feet of a goddess like figure. She had her arms outspread, and was wearing a cloak of her own, a hood drawn up over her head. Sitting on her arms and hands were birds, and more were carved flying around her.

Ziris frowned, gazing at the goddess, feeling certain she'd seen a similar figure somewhere else. In the back of her mind, something whispered in an odd language, and her vision flashed with an image of a statue of the same goddess on the wall. From the statue came a ghost like version of the woman herself, along with a flock of birds.

 _Nightingales._

The goddess floated before her statue, smiling at Ziris, and then she raised one hand to her lips, and pressed a finger against them. She wanted Ziris to stay quiet.

It was then that the figures connected in her head, and Ziris, quite literally, jumped out of the vision.

 _Nocturnal!_

"Ziris!" She jumped when Mercer's voice hissed at her from down the hall, and she hurried towards where he was, glancing back at the carving only once.

She found him standing in front of the door, and he nodded towards it.

"I think Karliah might be on the other side," he murmured. "Be on your guard."

Ziris nodded, and Mercer turned the pick he had shoved in the odd keyhole of the door one final time. The lock clicked, and the door rumbled, slowly lowering itself down into the ground. Mercer quickly withdrew his pick and put it back in the pouch on his belt.

Ziris waited until the door was fully down, and then she took a cautionary step forward, in order to get a better look around the cavernous room on the other side.

Instead, a sharp tug went through her side, and she looked down in time to see that an arrow had struck her just below her last rib. She carefully pulled it out, arrowhead and all, just as she felt her legs start to give away.

"Archer!" she exclaimed, and managed to dive behind a rock before she lost all feeling in her lower half. The tingling traveled up her body into her chest, her arms, and then into her neck and head. She lay on the ground, unable to move, and feeling as though a mammoth was sitting on top of her.

Her eyelids felt very heavy, and she struggled to keep them open.

"Karliah!"

Mercer's voice echoed darkly around the room, sounding like thunder. Ziris saw through blurry vision as he stepped within her line of sight.

"Come out and fight!" he went on.

"I'd have to be a fool to cross blades with you," a voice responded, and Ziris saw another arrow fly, and strike the stone where Mercer had stood a moment before. He'd moved without her seeing it.

"You've gotten sloppy," he growled. "Hit the wrong target."

Ziris saw a dark shape step in front of Mercer, just out of his reach. She assumed the shape was Karliah, and let her eyes droop a bit further.

"Did you not learn before that it's dangerous to drag people who trust you into situations like this?" Karliah asked Mercer. "It only ends poorly for everyone involved, with death and heartache. I would have thought you'd like to avoid such things, after how hard it was the first time."

"There wouldn't have _been_ a first time, if Gallus had known enough to keep his mouth shut," Mercer snarled.

"You know he couldn't!" Karliah exclaimed, sounding pained. "We took oaths, Mercer! You may have been impartial to them, but Gallus was not! He acted in the way he knew was right, and you _killed_ him for it."

 _Mercer killed Gallus._

"He already had you, and the Guild," Mercer rumbled. "All he had to do was look the other way."

"While you bled the Guild we loved dry?"

"The Guild you loved," Mercer corrected dryly. "You were never delusioned enough to believe I cared for it, were you?"

 _Mercer never cared for the Guild._

Karliah didn't respond, and there was the sound of two blades being drawn.

"That's what I thought," Mercer said lowly. "Come, then, Karliah, and I'll reunite you with your precious Gallus."

"No." There was a flash, and Karliah disappeared. "I refuse to fight you. Not today."

"Karliah!" he shouted, but there was no response.

Ziris lay helplessly on the floor as she listened to him slide at least one of his weapons away, and then she heard him approach where she was. He crouched down beside her, and pressed a finger against her neck. Searching for a pulse.

She imagined that there wasn't one, not at this point. Everything was beginning to fade, and she imagined that she was dying. That was the only explanation for the lack of feeling, the lack of everything.

"Not gone yet," Mercer murmured, "but almost." He let out a snort, and his fingers left her neck. "I don't know why I brought you along," he growled. "You've just complicated things further, something I knew you were going to do from the first moment I saw you."

Ziris felt the cool metal of a blade touch her throat. _By the Divines, he's going to stab me_ , she thought vacantly.

"I should have left you to be arrested," Mercer continued. Was that regret she heard in his voice? "I needed a distraction, though, and taking you on… it was a promise of one." The blade moved lower, until it rested between her breasts. "Karliah will _not_ take you too," he told her. "Farewell, little raven."

 _Gallus called Karliah his little nightingale._

The blade sank in, and Ziris went limp, the small light that remained fading for good. She fell into the shadows.

* * *

Eternity hurt a lot more than Ziris imagined it would. The area where Mercer had stabbed her seemed to burn, almost, and she wondered whether or not she'd be suffering from the wound for the rest of forever, for all the thievery she'd done.

The darkness itself was just as cold as she'd thought it would be. It was a sharp contrast to the burning of her wound, although it didn't relieve the pain whatsoever. It fact, it only made the rest of her body hurt, and made her feel sluggish, even though she was merely floating through nothing.

She was incredibly certain she was dead, so it was a shocking surprise when she opened her eyes, and found herself gazing up at the canvas ceiling of a tent.

Ziris blinked several times, aware only of the pain in her chest for a few moments. When she collected her thoughts, however, she realized that she was lying on the ground, on top of a sleeping mat. A thin blanket covered her to her chest. The top part of her currais had been cut away, and beneath the thin fabric of her tunic, she recognized the hideous outline of a bandage, wrapped tightly around the region between her breasts, and her shoulders in order to keep it in place.

Her first thought: _I should definitely be dead._

Her second thought: _Why… aren't I?_

She forced her head to turn to her right. She spotted another sleeping mat nearby, as well as the promising glow of a potion bottle.

She carefully reached for it, wincing at the fire that shot through her chest. She let out a relieved breath when her hand closed around the neck of the bottle, and she laid back down with a sharp exhale. Uncorking the bottle, she swallowed the entirety of the health potion, then tossed it to the side as a cooling sensation washed through her, settling between her breasts.

Ziris closed her eyes again, and tried to remember anything she could.

Only one thing stood out.

 _Mercer killed Gallus._

She should have known. After those visions she'd seen, of the two of them and of a wounded, dying Gallus. She should have been able to guess, to realize that Mercer had been lying to her, to everyone, for a quarter of a century.

 _Damn him,_ she thought sourly. _Lying bastard._

And then, her throat constricted, and she felt the sting of tears behind her closed eyes. One slid free.

 _Stupid idiot._

The sad thing was that she didn't know if she was referring to Mercer, or herself.

She imagined he was back with the Guild by now, or perhaps chasing after Karliah somewhere in the wilderness. She didn't know if she cared, exactly. What she did care about was whether or not the Guild would just… blindly accept him back within the fold, even with her gone, and no one knowing what had happened. She imagined the story Mercer would tell them, or had already told them, about how Karliah had shot her.

 _He'll probably blame my death on her, too._

She frowned.

 _My death. He thinks I'm dead. I'm not. Oh…_

She swallowed.

 _Damn._

If Mercer had returned to the Guild, Ziris wouldn't be able to. He'd kill her for certain, even if the others believed her when she told them what he actually happened. She didn't doubt that Mercer would be able to get to her even before she could reach the cistern, or the Flagon.

 _I can't go back, not while he lives._

The thought was grim. Mercer, her mentor, had tried to kill her, and would kill her, now that she knew who he was, and what he had done. Her mentor, the one who'd taught her to be the best thief she could be.

 _Did he care about me at all?_

He'd told her that he'd needed a distraction after he'd killed Gallus, and Karliah had gotten away. He'd said that she was supposed to be that distraction. Maybe she'd never become more than that, despite it all.

Oddly enough, Ziris wasn't exactly fuming with anger. She knew that she should be, but she wasn't. She didn't want to go running after Mercer to get her revenge on him, and she didn't know why.

"You're awake."

Ziris's eyes opened at the faintly familiar voice, and she forced herself to sit up.

Karliah was standing just inside the tent, looking slightly wary. Ziris glanced around for a weapon, but she saw none, and she saw that Karliah was weaponless as well. Clearly, there wouldn't be a fight, nor was one necessary.

"My name is Karliah."

"I know." Karliah didn't seemed surprised. "Are you the one that…?"

"Yes," Karliah replied, stepping further into the tent. "You're lucky my arrow was not meant to kill. The paralysis poison that it was laced with slowed your heart, and kept you alive long enough for me to get potions inside you, and bandage your wound." She gestured to Ziris's armor. "I apologize for cutting it open."

"It's fine," Ziris said, watching her closely. The Dunmer looked exhausted. She wore armor that matched that of the Thieves Guild, but was a slightly different shade. She reached into one of the larger pouches and produced a water skin, which she held out to Ziris. She took it, and allowed herself a long drink.

"You have been asleep for two days," Karliah told her. "I had hoped to be gone by now, but I didn't know how you'd do on your own, and I felt it my duty to stay with you."

"Why'd you shoot me?" Ziris questioned, and Karliah exhaled.

"My arrow was not meant for you."

"No, I understand that," Ziris said, "but I've heard from more than one source that you're an expert marksman." Karliah shifted a bit, uncomfortable. "I doubt you shot me on accident."

"I made a decision to get you out of the way, and it saved your life," Karliah said simply. "That's all there is to it."

Ziris gazed at her for a moment, and then she looked downwards. "Where'd Mercer go?"

"Back to the Guild, I imagine."

"And you'll go after him?"

"I must," Karliah said. Ziris sighed, and the dark elf tilted her head. "He tried to kill you."

"He also turned me into the best thief in the Guild," Ziris replied softly.

"What do you mean?" Karliah asked, and Ziris told her what Mercer had done, taking her in and promising to teach her everything he knew, which he did over the years she'd been in the Guild, and since he'd killed Gallus. Karliah listened to this, her purple eyes fixed rather intently on Ziris, and when she was done, the Dunmer exhaled softly. "He never learned."

"Learned what?"

"That people who trust him do so indefinitely," Karliah murmured. "He doesn't understand how many hearts he breaks with his actions." She shook her head. "I am sorry you've suffered so much from what he's done."

"It's not exactly your fault," Ziris replied quietly. "There were plenty of times I could have accused him of something or other, and I never did, because I could only think about how he'd brought me into the Guild. I never… never let myself actually see him for who he was."

"He wasn't always like this," Karliah told her.

"No," Ziris agreed, remembering all the times that Mercer hadn't actually been angry with her. "I don't imagine he was."

They were quiet for some time, and then Karliah looked at her. "Are you hungry?"

"Not very," Ziris responded. "Why did Mercer kill Gallus?"

Karliah blinked, and turned her gaze downwards. "Mercer… broke an oath, that the three of us had made. He'd also been stealing from the Guild's coffers for several years. Gallus found about the first, and he had enough information to know about the second, and he knew that Mercer couldn't be trusted. He meant to confront him, ask him to pay for what he'd done, while they were on a job together." Karliah winced. "I followed them, and…"

"And Mercer killed Gallus," Ziris finished.

Karliah nodded tiredly. "I wanted to stop him, but I couldn't get to them in time. By the time Mercer had fled to the shadows, and I was able to reach Gallus, he was already dead."

"So Mercer didn't actually come after you the first time?" Ziris asked, wondering just how much Mercer had lied about.

"No, he did," Karliah responded. "Mercer and I always knew what we each were up to. He'd assumed I'd follow he and Gallus, and he waited to ambush me when I went to check on Gallus's body. I was only able to escape by hitting Mercer with the only poisoned arrow I had with me at the time."

"And you ran."

"He reached the Guild first," Karliah concluded. Her purple eyes went dark. "His lies forced me to stay away for twenty five years, unable to return home and tell everyone the truth."

"I don't think anyone actually got what they wanted from all this," Ziris said after a moment. "Mercer's going to have to leave the Guild, you lost Gallus, the Guild is probably going to be broke, if we don't find the goods that Mercer's stolen over the years… and… the one person I thought I could always trust turned out to be the biggest liar I've ever known." She laughed without any humor at all. "It's disgusting, isn't it?"

Karliah didn't respond, and Ziris glanced at her. "So, what's the plan?"

"The plan?" Karliah sighed. "I must go to the Guild, and find someone who will be willing to listen." She looked at Ziris. "You, however…"

"What?" Ziris asked, frowning when she saw the expression on her face.

"You will be in danger if you come back with me," Karliah answered. "I believe it may be safer if we travel separately, and if, when you reach Riften, you wait for me to fetch you, so you know it's safe."

"But -"

"If I fail, it would be your death," Karliah said firmly. "You and I both know Mercer well enough to understand that."

Ziris gazed at her a moment, and then she nodded, once. Karliah nodded back, and then the dark elf turned around to begin packing her things.

Ziris let her do this, and while she watched, she considered all that had transpired. Karliah believed that Ziris would be killed if she returned to the Guild without the backing of everyone else. Ziris knew that she was right, to some degree, but she couldn't help but wonder if, maybe, she was wrong. Mercer _had_ tried to kill her, but would he try to do it again? Would he have the strength?

Ziris supposed it all depended on whether or not he'd actually formed a bond with her, the way she had thought he did. It would be a gamble, but Ziris knew that she did not want to run away, no matter what Karliah believed. That just… wasn't something Ziris could do, nor would she.

"You'll be all right, traveling alone?"

Ziris focused on Karliah, and saw a ghost of the affectionate, caring Dunmer she'd seen in her visions.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I'll be just fine."

Karliah returned the smile. "If you're sure," she said, and then she rose, slinging her pack and her quiver of arrows over one shoulder. She picked up her bow, and glanced at Ziris. "Shadows hide you."

Ziris blinked, never having heard this before, but she quickly nodded to seem grateful.

Karliah ducked out of the tent, and Ziris carefully stood, exhaling a bit as she glanced around.

Well, she thought, reaching for her pack. _Best I'd start with something to eat_.

* * *

 **As of this chapter, we're near the end of page 125 of a 164 paged document, so...**

 **Just a few more chapters, and then Ziris's tale will have run its course.**


	15. Taking a Step

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **Well. Guess we'll have to see what this is all about, won't we? Ziris will return to the Guild, and from there...**

 **Read on to find out, I suppose.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Sorry that I couldn't give you more before now, friendship. College is a busy time, especially since it's the first week, and I literally moved into my dorm a week ago. Bear with me.**

 **Guest: Indeed, she does in fact know the real Mercer, and we'll have to see how the rest of the Guild reacts to knowing the real Mercer.  
Hopefully, it won't take too long for Ziris to convince them that she isn't like him. We'll see. **

**Manu: Thank you for the encouragement, friend. I really appreciate it, and I need it right now. If I completely fail at college, at least I know that my writing might manage to pan out, if I actually ever get to publish my original novel.**

 **mia78: I'm sure Brynjolf's gonna be pissed, if nothing else. He might not even believe Ziris when she tells him that she had no idea Mercer was such an a-hole. And he's probably not happy that he's having the deal with all this shortly after having the best night of his life.  
Thank you for reviewing, lovely. I appreciate each and every one!**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Taking a Step**

Nothing was apparently different about Riften. The marketplace was still bustling with business. There were still shouts of the merchants, and the sounds of haggling. There was still the smell of the fishery and the sewers beneath the city.

Despite all that remained the same, however, Ziris knew that things had definitely changed. There was a different air about the city, and as she passed by Riftweald Manor, she didn't miss the odd emptiness that seemed to radiate from it, different from everything else in Riften.

And, as she climbed into the Ratway, she felt that homeliness she'd always felt there was missing.

So, she knew, even before reaching the Flagon, that Mercer was almost definitely already gone.

In a way, she was relieved, but in another, she wasn't. Part of her wanted to confront him, to demand to know why, and how, he could've tried to kill her. She wanted to see his face when he realized she was still alive.

Apparently, however, that would have to wait.

She pushed open the door leading into the tavern, and found Karliah first, leaning against the wall, as though she'd known Ziris would forgo waiting at the Bee and Barb for her signal.

She straightened up when Ziris appeared, and crossed over to her.

"Brynjolf is waiting to speak with you," the Dunmer said quietly. "I told him what happened, but I don't know how much he believes."

Ziris nodded, not at all surprised. "He's known something else to be true for a quarter of a century," she said lowly. "I won't be surprised if he still doesn't entirely believe us, even after hearing it from me."

Nonetheless, she started to make her way towards the Flagon. She passed by the merchants' cubby holes as she went, and found them staring at her with unreadable expressions. That same expression was settled on Dirge's face, and it didn't falter even when Ziris offered him a smile.

Vekel, however, looked her over with something similar to pity when she paused beside the bar.

"You really are alive," he said. "We'd been told, but we didn't believe it, not even after Mercer hightailed it out of here."

"So he is gone?" Ziris asked, and Vekel nodded. She exhaled. "All right. I need to go see Brynjolf."

"Be careful about what you say, Ziris," Vekel warned. Ziris glanced back at him in confusion, and he tilted his head. "Mercer said some pretty incriminating things about you before he left. I don't doubt that Brynjolf is curious to see if they're true or not."

Ziris tried to mask her concern. "What did he say?"

"He mentioned somethings about how you'd known something was odd for a long time, but that you'd never mentioned it. He was also adamant that you had wanted nothing more than to take Brynjolf's job since he got it." Vekel offered her a shrug. "I don't know too much. Just be wary."

Ziris gazed at him for a moment, and then she nodded. She should have guessed that Mercer would take advantage of their closeness, to partially blame her for what had happened. He really was a bastard.

She moved away from the bar, aware that Karliah was following behind her. At least she had the dark elf on her side, if no one else believed her.

They made their way into the cistern. Almost as soon as the door closing echoed around the room, the thieves inside looked up and over at them.

Ziris stiffened against their accusatory gazes, and glanced around for Brynjolf. He was already walking towards her, and though he still had that easy going look about him, she could sense that there was a different type of energy backing it.

He paused in front of her, and glanced her over. Ziris stood still, waiting for him to speak first.

"Did you have a key?"

She blinked, and glanced up to meet his eyes. "What?"

"A key," Brynjolf repeated, his voice tight. "Did you have a key to the vault?"

Ziris's hand instinctively went to the pouch on her belt where she'd kept the key hidden. She didn't feel it, and she saw the pained expression cross Brynjolf's face.

"He said that… that he gave you one, because you promised to help him take from the vault," the redheaded thief said through clenched teeth. "I didn't want to believe it."

"You shouldn't!" Ziris said quickly, dropping her hand. She took a step forward, and Brynjolf took a step back. Ziris stopped, and she tried to meet his eyes. "Brynjolf, you _know_ I would never."

"I thought I knew," Brynjolf responded softly. "I thought I knew a _lot_ of things, Ziris." He shook his head. "Now I don't know what to think."

Ziris didn't know what to tell him, either. So, instead, she decided to show him.

"Brynjolf." He glanced at her, and she moved aside the shirt she'd put on, so that he could see the bandages. "He tried to kill me. Why would he have done that, if I'd been helping him?"

Brynjolf stared at the bandages for a moment, obviously seeing their location, and recognizing just how close to death she'd been.

After a minute of silence, he turned his gaze away. "I don't know," he admitted under his breath. "I want to believe you, Ziris, but… the two of you… you were thick as thieves."

Under normal circumstances, they probably would have shared a laugh over his wording, but neither of them were laughing now. Ziris instead took another pace forward. This time, Brynjolf didn't move backwards, and she was able to reach out and take his hands.

"Brynjolf." He glanced at her, and she squeezed his hands. "You know me, and you know how much I love the Guild. You know I would _never_ do anything so horrible to it."

Brynjolf gazed at her, and Ziris gazed back, doing her best to convey her sincerity to him. She didn't know what she would do if he refused to believe her. If Brynjolf didn't trust her, then what was the point?

Finally, he dipped his head. "All right," he said softly. "We need to find out where Mercer's gone."

"Of course," Ziris said, relieved. "What do you need from me?"

Before Brynjolf could respond, Delvin appeared, and Ziris exhaled, letting go of Brynjolf's hand.

"Hi, Del," she greeted, turning to him.

"Are you all right?" Delvin asked her, and she nodded.

"As well as I can be."

"And… you weren't part of all Mercer's plans to bring down the Guild, were ya?"

"No," Ziris said. "Of course not."

Delvin looked relieved. "Thank the Divines," he said. "Y'know, I thought Mercer was lyin', but I didn't know -"

"I'm going to go poke around in Riftweald," Brynjolf announced, cutting Delvin off.

Ziris glanced at him. "You don't want me to go?"

"No," Brynjolf replied shortly. "You stay here, talk to everyone else, and get your head wrapped around what we're going to be doing once we figure out where Mercer's gone."

With that, he strode out of the cistern. Ziris watched him go, and then she turned back to Delvin.

"Don't worry about him, love," he said. "He's glad you're not dead, I promise. I don't think he ever really believed Mercer's claims. None of us did."

"I'm sure you're doing just fine speaking for yourself, Delvin," Ziris said, managing a grin. "I don't know about the others."

She could see that they were all still staring at her suspiciously. Only one other face looked as relieved as Delvin's, and, without hesitating, she hurried across the cistern.

Thrynn hugged her just as tightly as she hugged him, and only let her go when Ziris's let out a quiet whine when her injury started to hurt.

"Sodding Divines," he said, letting her go and gazing down at her. "I didn't _think_ you'd go down that easily, but…"

Ziris smiled at him. "I'm fine," she assured, and then she realized how close she was still standing to him. She cleared her throat and slid backwards a bit. "I'm glad you're not mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?" Thrynn asked her. "Because of what Mercer told us? You don't think I'd be stupid enough to believe something like that, do you?"

"No, no," Ziris said quickly, "of course not. It's just that… Brynjolf believed it, and it seems like plenty of the others believed it, and… it is was kind of believable."

Thrynn shook his head. "No," he said, grinning a bit. "Not at all. I know you, Z. You wouldn't, ever, no matter how close you and Mercer were. You care about the Guild too much."

Ziris gazed at him, and she saw with surprise, and relief, that he was being completely honest. She returned his smile, and her shoulders slumped.

"Now I have to talk to everyone else."

"I don't think that it's going to take too long," Thrynn commented, glancing over her shoulder.

Ziris turned, and found that the other thieves were already gathering around them. Some wore guarded expressions, and a few of them looked down right furious.

"I know what you all must be thinking," Ziris said quietly, addressing them all, "but I can tell you right now that whatever Mercer told you was… all lies."

"Even the part about you having a key to the vault?" Vex inquired darkly, and Ziris glanced at her to see she had her arms crossed, and wasn't looking like she was beyond pulling her dagger.

"No," Ziris said with a bit of deflation. "No, I did have a key. He gave it to me a long time ago, and I never had cause to use it. He told me that it was just a precaution, in case one of the others went missing. I told him I didn't want it, but he insisted." She looked down. "I see now that it _was_ a precaution, but only for him."

"Karliah wasn't lying, then, when she said that Mercer was the one that almost killed you?" Niruin asked.

Ziris pulled down her shirt to show off the bandages again, and a ripple went through the gathered thieves when they saw its location. It clearly didn't match the area Mercer had said Karliah had shot her, and Ziris had at least that going for her.

She put her shirt back in place. "Mercer wronged all of us," she said, "and I plan on seeing through whatever punishment the Guild decides to inflict."

"Oh, good," Vex said, dropping her arms, "because we all agree that he needs to die."

Ziris's heart stopped, and she hoped that it wasn't obvious to everyone else.

"Of course," she said, forcing a nod. "Seems only right."

That seemed to appease everyone, and they all started moving away again, leaving her alone with Thrynn, who could read her better than the others.

"You're not all right with it, are you?" he asked.

"Well… it's what he deserves," she replied, which didn't actually answer his question.

"Z…"

"I think I'm going to go find Brynjolf," she decided suddenly. "Knowing Mercer, he had a secret place somewhere where he would have hidden all his plans, and I think I might be the only one who knows him well enough to actually be able to find them."

Without waiting for whatever Thrynn had to say, she hurried out of the cistern, and headed for Riftweald Manor.

She'd never actually been inside, but as soon as she crossed the threshold, she spotted tiny things that signified the path Mercer had frequented most often. A disturbed trail of dust here, and wrinkled carpet edge there.

It wasn't hard to work her way down to the lowest floor of the home, through a hidden doorway in a wardrobe. What she found at the end of the hidden passage was Brynjolf, looking through a pile of papers on a desk in a small hidden room deep under ground.

He looked up when he heard her approach, and he frowned. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I… I wanted to see," Ziris answered, stepping into the room. "Did you find anything?"

"No," Brynjolf responded after a moment. "Mercer must have taken it all."

Ziris sighed to herself and walked around him, eyeing the desk. Brynjolf stepped back, watching her as she reached a hand beneath the desk and felt around underneath it. After a moment, she smiled to herself, and a part of the desk fell off, landing on the floor, along with several pieces of parchment.

"How -?"

"I know him better than you do, I guess," Ziris replied. She bent down to pick up the parchments, grunting a bit as she did so. She straightened up, ignoring the helping hand Brynjolf held out, and unfolded one of the papers. She read it silently to herself, and then handed it to him.

"He's going after the Eyes of Falmer," she murmured, eyes on the floor.

Brynjolf blinked, and looked the paper over himself. "Damn him," he muttered after a moment, crumpling the paper up in his fist. "We've been planning that job for almost five years now."

"We're going after him?" Ziris asked, and Brynjolf glanced at her.

"Do you want to?"

"Of course not," Ziris replied quietly, "but… I know you don't really believe I didn't help him unlock the vault, and I guess that this would be the only way to prove it to you."

"Ziris -"

"Don't worry about it," Ziris said, offering him a smile. "Really. I think he gave me the key in order to convince you further, actually, so…" She shrugged, stating that she was done, and Brynjolf exhaled a bit.

"Let's get back to the Guild," he said softly, and then he headed for the passage that didn't lead back into the house. Ziris imagined he believed he'd find a hidden passage that led right back, and, knowing Mercer, Brynjolf was probably right. Indeed, he found a wooden door at the end, and when he pushed it open, they found themselves looking at a familiar part of the Ratway.

Ziris hesitated before following Brynjolf through the doorway. "You go on," she said after a moment. "I… I feel like we might've missed something."

Brynjolf gave her a look, and then he shrugged and left her alone. Ziris watched the door swing shut behind him, and then she returned to the hidden basement room of Riftweald Manor, and glanced around for a moment. She didn't doubt that Mercer had taken everything he could with him, but she had to wonder if there was something.

She approached the desk again and began to examine it more thoroughly. Her wound ached terribly, and she exhaled, leaning her weight against the desk. It rattled sharply beneath her, and she shushed it.

She was busy dealing with her pain and the desk, and so she didn't feel the gaze on the back of her head until after a few moments. When she did, however, she went stiff. She knew this gaze.

"You lived."

His voice was dry, and Ziris didn't bother turning around. Instead, she leaned one hand against the wall and closed her eyes, gritting her teeth.

"Did you expect me to die easily?"

Mercer moved so that he was standing beside her. She wondered how long he'd been hiding in the shadows of the corner of the room, and why they hadn't said anything to her. Probably that they didn't want to alert Brynjolf to his presence. Mercer's face was all hard lines and scowl, and he stared at her for a long moment without speaking.

When he did, Ziris winced: "I didn't expect you to come back."

"What did you expect?" she asked him harshly. "That I'd leave? That you were the only reason I was with the Guild? It's my _home_ , Mercer."

"You'll be lucky if they ever trust you again," he told her. "Now that they know you had a key."

"Was that your plan all along?" Ziris lifted her head and met his gaze. "For them to believe I'd _helped_ you? What did you think would happen after that? Did you _want_ me to be run out of the Guild?"

"I thought that, perhaps, you might decide to join me," Mercer said.

Ziris blinked at him, her anger disappearing all at once. Now she only felt disbelief.

"You thought I'd want to come with you? Stay with you after you betrayed the people who have been my family for so long?" She knew that she'd never understand Mercer, but now she didn't even know if she could consider him sane. "What possessed you?"

Mercer's eyes hardened. " _I_ took care of you," he reminded her. "I shaped you into the thief that the entire Guild admitted to being the best. I thought you might recognize that, at least, and decide that maybe I had the right of it."

"The _right of it_? You must be kidding."

"What's the point of having something like what Nocturnal keeps hidden away if it's never used?" Mercer demanded. "The Skeleton Key is meant to open locks, any lock. The Daedra dangles it right in front of our faces, and she doesn't expect us to take it, and use it?"

"The _Skeleton Key_." Ziris frowned. "Is that what happened, then? Even after you told Gallus you wouldn't take it, you did?"

"How do you know what I told Gallus?" Mercer asked.

"The shadows showed me," Ziris retorted. "They tell the truth better than you ever have."

The two of them glared at one another for a long time.

"The Key has insurmountable power," Mercer finally said, and he seemed to have gotten rein around his anger. "Nocturnal made us swear an oath that we would protect it."

"And instead you stole it," Ziris concluded.

"It's safe in my possession," Mercer told her.

"If the Key is as powerful as you say, who knows what you might have opened with it!" Ziris exclaimed. "It's dangerous, Mercer. It isn't meant to be used!"

"Then why have it at all?" he demanded.

"Probably to act as a test for Nocturnal to see which thieves are worthy of her blessings." Ziris shook her head at him. "Apparently, you're not."

"Then why hasn't she stripped me of them?" Mercer queried coldly.

Ziris didn't have a response, mostly because she had no idea what she was talking about. She was basing her statements mostly on what she'd seen in her visions. She was surprised they'd apparently made sense, so far.

"Exactly," Mercer concluded. "Nocturnal doesn't care about the Key, or the Guild, or anything. She just wants to watch us fight about it, to tear one another apart. It gives her pleasure." He tilted his head. "Do you really want to give it to her? Be her form of entertainment?"

Ziris stared at him, and she wondered how much of he was saying was actually true. She didn't know anything about the Daedra that they were speaking of, but she did know that Mercer had been part of Nocturnal's group of special agents, and he certainly knew more than she did.

But… he'd lied about everything else. Why wouldn't he lie about Nocturnal, too?

So, she looked away, and shook her head.

"Why… why did you try to kill me?" she asked, instead of answering him. When Mercer didn't respond, she pulled down her shirt to show him her bandages. "You were… about two centimeters away from my heart," she whispered. "How long have you wanted me dead?"

"I didn't _want_ you dead," Mercer said under his breath.

"You _tried to kill me_!" Ziris shouted. "You tried to kill me, and you have the audacity to tell me that you didn't want me dead? You're lying even now, even after all that's happened! When will you learn?"

"You were never going to die!"

Ziris was taken aback by this, and she actually moved backwards away from him, into the desk. It rattled sharply behind her, and she stared at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"I knew that you weren't actually going to die," Mercer said after a moment of silence. "Karliah wouldn't have killed me, and I knew that her arrow had to have been laced with paralysis poison. It's her specialty." He looked down. "I thought that… that if I gave you time away from the Guild, I'd be able to burn the bridges here, and come back for you."

Ziris couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You thought I'd want to come with you, after I knew that you'd lied about killing Gallus?"

Mercer didn't respond, and she realized that he'd been lying, again.

"Right," she said softly. "I get it now. You… you're exactly what everyone in the Guild thinks you are. I thought… I thought that maybe there was a chance that you were the Mercer that I always believed you were, but… but apparently he's gone. Or maybe he never existed." She shook her head slightly. "It's a shame, because I'm going to miss him."

"Ziris -"

"I'd get moving, Master Frey," Ziris said, stepping past him towards the door that Brynjolf had exited through. "We won't be far behind you."

With that, she left him alone in his hidden room, very aware that she had tears building up in her eyes.

She found that Brynjolf was waiting for her, as though he hadn't expected her to be able to find her own way back to the Guild. He frowned when he saw the expression on her face, and he quickly reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders as though to steady her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and she forced a nod.

"Of course," she murmured. "I just…" She trailed off, and a sob managed to escape. Without thinking about it, she rested her head against Brynjolf's shoulder and cried into it.

Thankfully, Brynjolf merely circled his arms gently around her.

"Easy," he said softly. "I know, and it's all right. Cry all you want in front of me, since you won't be able to in front of everyone else."

Ziris did just that, and she decided that she could get over the fact that Mercer had chosen Brynjolf as his second-in-command at last, and she could understand why. Brynjolf was a sharp contrast to Mercer, and that was what made them work together so well.

Ziris decided that Brynjolf would make a great Guild Master, and she let herself hug him back, glad that she could do that without feeling the same uncertainty and anger she'd felt around him for far too long.

She decided that she was happy to have Brynjolf back, and she decided that she would need him in the coming days.

* * *

 **There you go, you Bryris shippers. There's your moment. Be happy. Celebrate.**

 **I gotta go sleep, I think. Or write something else. I'm doing this really shitty story about _13 Reasons Why_ that is based on _Dear Evan Hansen_ , so you can tell how my life's going. **

**See you next week. Maybe. We'll see.**


	16. It's Business

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **It'll be a relief when I don't have to update this every week. It's not a big deal to post it, but updating it is a long process, especially since I have to go through each chapter and look for italicized moments.**

 **It's a pain, and it'll be over soon. Within three weeks, I think.**

 **The end of an era.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **JD98: Yeah, I thought a lot of people would enjoy the ending of the last chapter, too. As a non-shipper myself, it was odd to write it, but I guess that's how J. K. Rowling felt when she wrote about the locket Horcrux trying to mess with Ron's mind.  
Sorry. Harry Potter on the brain. **

**Guest: Thank you for the warm wishes, friend! The first week went okay, and by the time you're reading this, I will almost be done with my second week, so hopefully that went just as well. We'll have to see, won't we?**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: It's Business**

* * *

Brynjolf looked good behind the Guild Master's desk, Ziris thought, watching the redhead examine the plans Mercer had left behind one last time.

They'd been back in the cistern for about an hour after she'd finally finished crying on his shoulder (literally), and now they were trying to decide the best course of action. Ziris understood that they knew exactly what needed to be done already, but she had a feeling that Brynjolf was stalling on purpose. Perhaps he needed time to wrap his head around the idea that Mercer was going to die, just like she did, and was still struggling to do.

He glanced up at her, as though he'd forgotten she'd been standing there, and he let out a breath.

"Karliah asked me to make the final decision about Mercer's fate," he said quietly, "since I'm the second-in-command."

"Right," Ziris agreed. "It makes sense that the choice would fall to you."

"I just wanted to make sure that you…"

"Brynjolf, I shouldn't have a say," Ziris replied before he could finish. "He betrayed the Guild. He killed Gallus. He tried to kill me." She inhaled. "Despite our past, I know what needs to be done. He needs to die."

"If that's your final decision, then we'll have to be very careful." Karliah appeared beside her, and she fixed Brynjolf with a serious look. "Mercer is a Nightingale, an Agent of Nocturnal. He has powers that the two of you have only dreamed of."

"Then it's all true," Brynjolf said. "The stories that Gallus would tell me, about the Nightingales' allegiance to Nocturnal, and how she gave them gifts befitting a thief in return for their loyalty?"

"Yes," Karliah responded with a dip of her head, "which is why we need to prepare ourselves, and meet Mercer on equal footing."

Ziris frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Outside of Riften, beyond the Southeast Gate, there's a path cut up the mountainside," Karliah said. "At the end of the path, there is a clearing, and an old standing stone. I would like you both to meet me there by nightfall."

"Why?" Ziris asked, and Karliah turned to her.

"I'll explain it all when we're at the stone, I promise," the dark elf said. "You'll need to trust me."

Ziris didn't know how much she wanted to trust anyone, but nonetheless, she nodded, and Karliah left the cistern.

When she was gone, Ziris looked at Brynjolf, who was studying the plans again. "Are you all right?" she asked him, and he shook his head slightly, and smiled a bit.

"No," he admitted, "but someone needs to keep their head. Who better than the second-in-command?" He looked up, and met her gaze. "Ziris, I wanted to speak with you about the matter of succession."

"We can do that after we finish this," she said quickly, not wanting to hear what else he had to say. "The sun is going to start setting soon; we should get moving, since we don't know how far away this clearing actually is."

Brynjolf looked at her for a moment, and then he nodded. "Let me get my things together. I'll meet you on the surface."

Ziris dipped her head, and turned to do the same. She went across the cistern to where her bed was, and retrieved her knapsack, then opened the chest beside her bed. Inside it was the spare currais she had managed to barter off of Tonilia, and she slid into it, wincing as it pressed against the bandages on her chest.

"Need help with the buckles?"

She turned and found Thrynn standing behind her. Nodding, she moved closer to him, and let him buckle up the hard to reach ones on her shoulders. When they were latched, she turned to face him, smiling gratefully.

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" he asked her. "No one will blame you if you decide to stay behind. They know you're recently healed, if you've even healed."

Ziris nodded. "I know," she said, "but… this will be for me, more than anything. I need to see him again, and try to get an answer out of him." She didn't have the heart to say that she'd already tried to do that, and she'd only gotten more lies.

"If you're sure," Thrynn said, and then he hugged her, gently. "Just be careful, and don't almost die again."

Ziris laughed at that. "I'll do my best."

Thrynn let her go, and Ziris turned back to her packing.

When she had everything she'd need, she moved towards the ladder, and climbed up it, out through the secret entrance. She found Brynjolf waiting for her, like he said he would be, and he gestured with his head for her to follow him.

Together, they made their way out of the city and around to the path that Karliah had mentioned. They found it where she said it would be, and although it was fairly overgrown because of disuse, they were able to pick it out rather easily, and they followed it up the mountain.

The climb made Ziris breathe heavily, and she found herself leaning towards Brynjolf for support without thinking about it. He offered it to her without complaining, however, so she didn't move away from him. They made it up to the clearing that Karliah had described within a half hour, just as the sun completely disappeared behind the mountain range.

Karliah was already there, leaning against the tall standing stone that she'd said would be there, and she straightened up when she saw them.

They approached her, and she gestured to the standing stone. "This stone marks the headquarters of the Nightingales, cut into the mountainside by the first of our kind."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Brynjolf said, blinking. "I think I know what you're planning, Karliah, and I don't know how I feel about it."

"Please, I ask that the two of you follow me," Karliah said quietly. "I'll do my best to explain my thinking on the way."

She turned towards the stone, and disappeared into a barely perceivable hole in the mountainside. Ziris and Brynjolf exchanged a glance, and Ziris shrugged before going after the Dunmer.

Within the hole, she found a wooden door, and she ducked through it after the dark elf, Brynjolf behind her.

The door opened into a dark corridor within the mountain, leading down a rather steep path. Together, the three of them started down it, and Brynjolf glanced around.

"So, this is Nightingale Hall," he said. "I heart about it when I first joined the Guild from Gallus, but I didn't believe it actually existed."

"That was done on purpose," Karliah told him. "We didn't want everyone knowing about our true nature."

Ziris glanced at Brynjolf to see if he was just as confused as she was, and found that he was frowning. Karliah, who was walking ahead of them, seemed to sense it.

"What's wrong, Brynjolf? I can almost hear your brow furrowing."

"I'm just trying to understand why we're here," Brynjolf responded. "I'm not religious in the slightest, and I imagine that the Nightingales are meant to spread Nocturnal's words to the mortal realm. Why choose me to do such a thing?"

"Wait, you want us to become Nightingales?" Ziris asked in disbelief.

Karliah was silent for a moment, merely continuing on down the path.

"This isn't about religion, Brynjolf," she said at last. "It's business."

That seemed to be all she had to say about the matter, and they continued on in silence.

At the end of the path, they found an open door waiting for them, and Karliah passed through it, saying: "This is Nightingale Hall. You're the first of the uninitiated to set foot inside in over a century."

Ziris and Brynjolf followed her through the door, and Ziris looked around the Hall. It didn't seem to be a place of high quality. There were plants growing up from the floor, and a lot of the room was covered in dust. Still, Karliah seemed very relaxed, and Ziris had to wonder how much time she'd spent here prior to her exile.

She gestured to a side room. "If you'll both proceed to the armory to don your Nightingale Armor, we can begin the Oath."

"The Oath?" Ziris asked in curiosity, following Karliah into the room she'd indicated.

"Every Nightingale takes an Oath, to promise their commitment to serving Nocturnal," Karliah explained, and she gestured to three odd stones that were pressed against one of the walls of the room they'd entered. "Within these stones are the armor pieces of the Nightingale. You'll need to wear it for the Oath taking."

Ziris exhaled, and stepped forward towards the stone. In the back of her mind, she could hear what Mercer had said about Nocturnal, when they'd met in his hidden room in Riftweald Manor. He'd said that Nocturnal used her thieves as entertainment, and nothing more. He'd asked her if she wanted to be Nocturnal's entertainment.

Did she?

Well, she thought, reaching out to touch the stone and retrieve the armor, _I suppose I don't have much of a choice, do I_?

When the three of them all had their armor on, Ziris turned to look at Brynjolf, to see just what she was wearing.

She found him covered from head to foot in black leather that fit him rather snugly, revealing each and every line. A hood was pulled up over his head, and beneath it was a mask that was covered in the same intricate designs as the rest of the dark armor. The mask covered his entire face, and she could only see his green eyes, which were stark against the black around them.

He looked very good, and exactly like a shadow.

Brynjolf must've been able to see her thoughts through her eyes, which she imagined were the only thing showing of herself, as well, because his own glimmered with amusement.

"I wonder how the rest of the Guild will react to this," he pondered, holding out his arms and doing a turn. Ziris didn't mind, and she tilted her head as she examined the curve of his rump. He completed the turn, and Ziris was almost positive he was grinning roguishly beneath his mask. "How do I look?"

"You both look perfect," Karliah decided, and Ziris hoped she looked half as good in her armor as Karliah did in hers. "You're both ready."

"Before we agree to anything, I think we deserve to know the terms of this arrangement we're going to be making with Nocturnal," Brynjolf said, turning to face her.

"The terms are very simple," Karliah replied patiently. "Nocturnal will grant you the powers of a Nightingale, and allow you to use them whenever you wish. In return, both in life and in death, you must serve as a guardian of the Twilight Sepulcher."

 _Sepulcher_. Ziris had heard Gallus say the same thing in one of her visions. What was it, exactly?

Brynjolf seemed to know already, because he nodded. "I suppose that's fair, and at this point, what is there to lose? You can count me in."

They both turned to face Ziris, who glanced between their masked faces.

"I understand how you must be feeling," Karliah began when she didn't speak. "And I understand that you might have heard disturbing things about Nocturnal from Mercer, but I promise you that whatever he told you is most likely far from the truth."

"I'm sure you're right," Ziris replied, "but… it's all just a little surreal. I feel as though we're going to be repeating history, and I'm not sure that's the best idea."

Karliah glanced at Brynjolf, whose demeanor had shifted a bit at Ziris's words, as though he hadn't considered it, but now he was.

"There's no going back?" Ziris asked, and Karliah shook her head. Ziris exhaled. "Of course not."

She met Brynjolf's eyes, and he offered her a small nod. Ziris nodded back, and turned to Karliah again. "All right," she said. "I suppose I'm ready, then."

Relief entered Karliah's purple eyes. "Good," she said. "After I open the gate into the summoning hall, please stand on the western circle."

The Dunmer disappeared into another hall, and Brynjolf followed after her, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ziris was behind him. She did join them after remaining where she was for a moment, wondering just when joining the Guild had also meant she'd be giving her soul away to a Daedra.

She and Brynjolf followed Karliah to a gate, and Karliah pulled down on the chain hanging from the wall next to it. The gate rose, silently, and then Karliah entered the room ahead of them, passing over a large stone platform in the middle of the cavernous space to a conjoined platform in the direct middle of the room.

Brynjolf moved to the one to the left of Karliah's, and Ziris hesitated a moment before climbing the pathway to the vacant one, on the western side of the room. As soon as she stepped into the middle of the platform, a odd rush of cold swept over her, like a wind, and she shivered violently.

 _What in the name of the Divines was that?_

She turned to ask Karliah, but the dark elf was already speaking, her arms upraised: "I call upon you, Lady Nocturnal, Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadow… hear my voice!"

The room shook, and then there was a bright flash from the center platform. Ziris blinked against it, and watched as a cloud of birds, nightingales, appeared from the light. They swooped around the ball that the light had formed, and a voice came from it: "Ah, Karliah. I was wondering when I'd hear from you again."

Ziris gaped at the ball in shock. Was that Nocturnal?

"Lose something, did we?" the Daedra was asking, sounding more amused than anything.

"My lady, I've come before you to throw myself upon your mercy, and to accept responsibility for my failure," Karliah said, lowering herself to one knee, her head bowed.

"Your terms were struck long ago, Karliah," Nocturnal said. "What could you offer me now, seeing as you are already mine?"

"I have two others with me, that wish to transact the Oath," Karliah replied. "They wish to serve you in life, and in death."

"Ah." Nocturnal's ball of light wavered a bit, her nightingales moving with it. Apparently, she was turning to appraise Brynjolf, for she chuckled a bit. "So much like Gallus," she said. "Facing fate with the same carefree demeanor."

The ball moved again, and Ziris stiffened. She felt as though someone were looking her over thoroughly, and it bothered her that she couldn't see them doing so.

"This one… not so much like the other that came before her, but still reminiscent of him," Nocturnal decided after a moment. "Definitely with more loyalty, but with similar determination. Just for a different reason."

The gaze left Ziris, thankfully, and the ball turned back to Karliah. "I'm surprised, Karliah," she said. "This offer is weighted in my favor."

"My desire for revenge against Mercer Frey is far greater than my desire for wealth, Your Grace," Karliah swore, rather darkly, Ziris thought.

"Revenge? Interesting." Nocturnal seemed to consider it for a moment longer, and the ball of light bounced. "Very well," she finally said. "The conditions are acceptable. You may proceed."

"Thank you, my lady. We accept your terms, and dedicate ourselves to you as both your avengers, and your sentinels. Our agreement will be honored in this life and the next, until your conditions have been met," Karliah said, rising.

"Very well," Nocturnal said again. "I name your initiates Nightingale, and I restore your status to the same, Karliah." Light glowed above the three mortals, and Ziris felt that same rush of cold go through her. "Refrain from disappointing me again," Nocturnal advised, and the ball of light faded, the nightingales returning to it without more than a few chirps.

The room returned to its original lighting, and Ziris relaxed.

She moved off of her platform down to the one in the center of the room to meet with the others. She saw that Brynjolf's eyes were glowing.

"I don't know what it is," he said, a grin in his voice, "but I feel like I can do anything, now."

"That is the power of Nocturnal," Karliah said, joining them, and then she glanced between the two of them. "Now that you are both Nightingale, I can reveal to you the final piece of this puzzle: Mercer's true crime."

"The Skeleton Key," Ziris said quietly, and they both looked at her, Karliah in surprise, and Brynjolf in confusion.

"How do you know?" Karliah asked her, and Ziris glanced downwards.

"The shadows showed me, in a vision," she explained quietly. "After… after he tried to kill me."

 _Liar_.

She shrugged the thought away as Karliah examined her a moment longer, and then she nodded and looked at Brynjolf. "Yes, Mercer stole the Skeleton Key from the Twilight Sepulcher, which was how he was able to open the Guild's vault. So, even if he gave Ziris a key, it's doubtful that he used it, and his own, to open the vault."

Brynjolf glanced sideways at Ziris. "I should never have believed him," he said. "I'm sorry, Ziris."

"Don't worry about it," Ziris dismissed.

"When Mercer stole the Key, he compromised our connection to Nocturnal, and caused our luck to run dry," Karliah continued.

 _So that explains it_ , Ziris thought to herself. _No wonder Delvin spouted all that nonsense about Nocturnal turning her back on us. She really did._

"So, this key…" Brynjolf looked at Karliah. "It unlocks any door?"

"Yes," Karliah said, "but it doesn't stop there."

"Of course not," Ziris sighed. "What did Mercer unlock?"

"There are untapped abilities within all of us, locked away inside our minds," Karliah explained. "When someone realizes the Key can access these abilities, the potential becomes limitless."

"Which is extremely dangerous, and is the reason why it's supposed to be kept hidden away in the Twilight Sepulcher," Brynjolf concluded.

"Exactly," Karliah confirmed with a nod. "You understand, then, that this is about more than Mercer's lust for power. We must return the key to its lock, or things for the Guild will never be the same. Our luck would fade away all together eventually, and without it, we wouldn't have our trade."

Despite it all, Ziris laughed, and they looked at her again. "Sorry," she said between snorts. "I just… I've never _returned_ something before. I just find it really ironic."

The other two seemed to understand that she needed this, and so they let her laugh, until the idea of a thief returning something didn't seem so funny anymore, and it faded with a few chortles and a couple more snorts.

"All right," she said, exhaling. "Sorry. Thanks. Are we ready to go, then?"

"I thought that we might stay here overnight, and set out at dawn," Karliah replied.

"Oh, right," Ziris said. "That would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"And Brynjolf has something to discuss with you, so I'll leave you two alone while I go make a fire," Karliah concluded, and then she exited the chamber, leaving Brynjolf and Ziris by themselves.

"If this is about what I think it is, I don't want to talk about it right now," Ziris said before he could speak.

"We have to discuss it eventually, and now is the best time," Brynjolf told her. "Because of you, the Guild already has a strong footing in several of the holds, so it won't take long for it to return to its full strength. I think, along with a lot of the others, that you could easily replace Mercer as the leader of the Guild."

Ziris shook her head. "You don't want me to be Guild Master, Brynjolf," she said softly.

"Of course I do," Brynjolf replied. "Why wouldn't I? You're the best damn thief we have, and the luckiest out of all of us. You've worked hard to keep us afloat, harder than Mercer ever did. Your loyalty and your commitment is unbelievable, considering who mentored you." Brynjolf pushed down his hood, and lowered his mask, and she saw just how serious he was being "I mean it, Ziris. You're the best one for the job, and I'd be happy to serve alongside you."

"Brynjolf, I can't accept the position," Ziris said, yanking down her own hood and mask. "It isn't right."

"Listen to me," Brynjolf said, and she met his eyes. "No one will come out and say it, but they all appreciate everything you've done, even in the face of all that's happened. And now that they know that you're more loyal to the Guild that Mercer ever was, they'll commit to you as Guild Master without any hesitation."

"But Mercer was the one who turned me into this," Ziris said, gesturing to herself. "My skills were born of what he taught me."

"True enough, but your love for the Guild is your own, Ziris," Brynjolf told her, "and that's what matters."

Ziris gazed at him for a moment, and then she glanced downwards. "I'll need to think on it," she murmured at last, and Brynjolf nodded.

"I'll just consider you in charge until you've actually told me you want the job," he said, and she glanced up to see he was grinning. "Come, let's see if we can't help Karliah whip up some supper."

Ziris nodded, and she went after him, thinking.

She was finally getting what she'd strived for. Brynjolf was offering her the spot at the head of the Guild. She would be the one to make decisions, to keep an eye on the ledgers and on the vault, make sure everything was running smoothly. It was what she had wanted practically from the moment she realized that there was chance she could have it.

But now, after all that had transpired, she wasn't sure if she wanted the job as much as she had before. Knowing what Mercer had done while in the position made her wonder just how bad her own power lust was. She didn't know if she wanted to fuel it, just as Mercer had fueled his own by becoming Guild Master.

Brynjolf was definitely the safer choice for taking over, and Ziris had already decided that she wouldn't mind being his second-in-command, if he asked her to be. Perhaps that was the conclusion they could come to, when the business had been completed.

 _No sense thinking about it now,_ she decided. _We have bigger problems._

After all, before anyone could become the new Guild Master, the old one needed to be removed from his position.

* * *

 **I'm tired, and I still need to finish my ten page paper on voter discrimination from 2000-present.**

 **It isn't due until October 10th, but uh...**

 **Y'know. Overachiever.**

 **I'll see you guys next time.**


	17. The End of an Era

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **So, uh, originally, the whole deal with the Sepulcher was going to be tied into this chapter.**

 **And then I realized that it was already almost 6,000 words, and I changed my mind.**

 **So, next week's chapter is going to be fairly short. Just a head's up.**

 **Also, I'm posting this chapter a day early because I have a _lot_ of shit to do tomorrow. **

**See you next week.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **mia78: Thank you for reviewing! For now, I think, Ziris and Brynjolf are just at a place where they're on speaking terms. I don't foresee any deep conversations occurring between the two of them, at least not yet. As for Mercer... yeah, Ziris isn't taking it too well, but we'll see how it pans out after the events of this chapter.**

 **Guest: You're very excited to see Mercer get his comeuppance. I guess I can't exactly blame you. Guess that means you'll enjoy this chapter, though.**

 **Manu: Thank you for your kind words, friend! I actually took my first college quiz today, and I received a 90/100! It was in history, which is like... the main subject for me, but still, it's pretty exhilarating.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: The End of an Era**

* * *

Irkngthand was the biggest ruin Ziris had ever seen. It wasn't exactly up against much competition, considering how few ruins Ziris had seen in her lifetime, but it was incredible. Karliah even seemed taken aback by its size, and the three thieves hesitated outside its giant doors, as though they were debating whether or not they actually wanted to go inside.

Karliah was the first to speak: "I believe it's safe to say that… the inside of this ruin is going to be very dangerous, even without Mercer lurking within its walls."

"What do you see us going up against?" Brynjolf asked her.

"Falmer, if nothing else," Karliah replied immediately.

"Falmer?" Ziris already didn't like the sound of it, even though they were going after Mercer to stop him from taking something called 'The Eyes of the Falmer'. She hadn't thought about it much until now, hearing Karliah say the name again. "What are those?"

"You've never heard of the Falmer?" Brynjolf looked surprised. "They used to be called 'snow elves', until they suffered from a war with the Dwemer." He gestured to the giant doors ahead of them. "The dwarves built this place, and other ruins like it all over Skyrim."

"So why would the Falmer be inhabiting it?" Ziris asked.

"The history between the Dwemer and the Falmer is a long one," Karliah replied, "and not something that is easily told in a short amount of time. The most important thing for you to know is that the Falmer are blind, but they are deadly. They were tortured by the Dwemer, so there's no doubt that they are rather angry as well." Karliah nodded towards the doors. "We'll need to be very careful, and trust the shadows to hide us when we need them too."

"The shadows." Ziris let out a breath. "Right." She faced the doors. "No sense in putting it off any longer, is there?"

"No," Karliah agreed, "there's not."

With that, the three thieves headed into the ruin, unsure of what they were walking into.

The inside of the ruin proved to be just a large as the outside, and it was also scattered with just as many dead bandits as the exterior had been. There was no doubt that Mercer was waiting for them deeper within, and Ziris frowned when she saw the cuts on the chest of one of the bandits, in almost the same exact pattern as the ones she'd seen covering Gallus in her vision.

"Ziris." She glanced up from the dead bandit, and found Brynjolf waving her forward. She moved away from the dead to join him and Karliah where they had stopped before another set of tall doors.

"What?" she asked, glancing between them.

"We just wanted to make sure that you're still… with us," Karliah said, her voice soft.

Ziris allowed her shoulders to slump. "I'm as with you as I can be," she assured. "I know what needs to happen, I just…" She winced a bit. "Don't let me be the one who has to do it."

"Of course not," Karliah assured, looking at Brynjolf.

"We wouldn't make you do that," he agreed.

"All right," Ziris said, "then let's keep moving."

"We should tread carefully," Karliah added, turning to the doors. She pushed them open, and they made a loud sound as they fell against the walls. "I wouldn't be surprised if Mercer's left behind a few surprises for us."

 _Me either_ , Ziris thought, following her and Brynjolf into the next room.

They found themselves standing on a walkway blocked off from the remainder of the room by solid bars, and Karliah hurried forward, pulling her bow off of her back. "Look, down there!" she hissed, nodding towards the bars. "It's Mercer."

"I'm on it," Brynjolf growled, and he hurried off to find a way down.

Ziris watched as the tiny shape down below them moved towards another shape, one that wasn't moving. In a work of blades that could have only been Mercer's, the first figure took down the second, and then kept moving.

"Damn it," Brynjolf cursed, coming back to them. "There's no easy way through."

"He's toying with us," Karliah decided, watching as Mercer moved away from them, no longer crouched. "He wants us to follow."

"Then we should," Ziris stated, turning and heading for the only opening leading off of the fenced in walkway.

The three of them worked their way down into the room they'd seen Mercer in, and Ziris froze when she spotted something she'd never seen before, hulking at the bottom of a set of stairs that they needed to traverse.

"Is _that_ a Falmer?" she hissed to her companions, and Karliah nodded, silently pulling an arrow back in her bow's string. She let it fly, and it sank directly into the Falmer's neck. The creature fell to the floor without a sound.

Ziris led the way down the stairs, and she gazed down at the fallen snow elf. It did look like an elf, just one that hadn't seen the light of the sun in centuries. She almost felt sorry for it, seeing it's vacant eyes.

"I doubt they remember much," Brynjolf said, coming up beside her. "About what they were before."

"It's sad," Ziris said quietly, and Brynjolf nodded in agreement.

"Let's go, you two," Karliah urged from further ahead.

"Come on, Ziris," Brynjolf invited, and he led the way towards where Karliah waited for them.

As they moved ahead, they found more signs of Mercer, including dead spiders and Falmer, as well as something that had been laid out especially for the three of them.

"Damn him," Karliah cursed, picking up one of the three lockpicks that sitting before a closed door. "He's playing games."

"And unfortunately for you, I'm the only one who knows all the rules."

Ziris turned, looking around for the source of the snide comment, but Mercer was nowhere to be seen.

"How…?"

"The shadows," Karliah murmured, glancing sideways at her. "They're serving both sides, even now."

 _Shadows_ , Ziris thought bitterly, glaring at a rather large one that lurked nearby, cast by an urn. She glanced around the room once more, and then upwards, wondering where the sound had come from. She knew that it wouldn't have been wherever Mercer was, considering how easy it would be for sounds to echo in this cavernous area.

She spotted slight movement on a platform high above the three of them, and she frowned when she saw Mercer leaning against a pillar up on top of it. He nodded to her, pleased she'd found him, and then he disappeared.

"Blast," Brynjolf muttered under his breath, turning away from the door, which was sealed up tight. "Where to, now?"

"I don't know," Karliah said, "but there has to be a path somewhere…"

Before she could finish her thought, a rather loud crack filled the air around them, and Ziris glanced upwards again when more thunderous booms followed it. She blinked when she saw a large section of the ceiling come tumbling down towards them.

"Move!" Brynjolf shouted, shoving her backwards away from him and Karliah. Ziris collapsed to the ground a few feet away from where the rubble landed with a crash of dirt and debris.

Coughing, she made her way towards it, and pressed her hands against it, searching for a way through.

"Ziris!"

She heard Brynjolf call her name, and she realized that the fallen ceiling had put a barrier between her and the other two, blocking her from reaching them.

"I'm all right!" she called back. "There's no way through, or around it!"

There was silence for a moment, and then Karliah spoke: "There's always a main chamber of some sort that these halls connect to in order to reconvene. We should be able to come together again, further ahead."

Ziris inhaled shakily, and glanced over her shoulder. The last place she wanted to be on her lonesome was a Dwemer ruin filled with Falmer and a power-thirsty thief who'd already tried to kill her once before.

Still, she didn't see any other choice.

"All right," she managed, turning back to the barrier blocking her from her companions. "We'll meet further ahead, then. Be careful!"

"You do the same," Brynjolf advised.

 _Sure, I'll do my best_ , Ziris thought, pulling out her dagger and sword as she turned around to find a way out.

She worked her way up the side of the room, using platforms to her advantage, until she found a way forward. Taking it, she snuck down the corridor ahead of her, wondering just how long it would be before she could join the others.

Things creaked and groaned around her as she moved through the vacant corridors of the ruin, and she winced with every new sound. She didn't want to be alone any longer.

She reached the end of the corridor, and found that two different pathways waited for her, heading in two separate directions.

Cursing under her breath, she peered first down one, and then the other, then stopped, waiting to see if she could hear or feel a draft.

Instead, she heard a loud shriek of metal against metal come from the passage leading to the left, and she decided that she was going to go right.

Darting down the passage, she ducked behind a corner, and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. She hadn't heard any more movement of metal, but she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes, and peeked around the wall, only to find herself face to face with what looked like a metal spider. It clicked angrily when it spotted her, and Ziris yelped, jumping backwards away from it. The spider moved towards her on its metal legs, and Ziris quickly brought up her sword and smashed it downwards onto the creature.

Immediately, a rather violent shock traveled up her arm and into the rest of her body, making her shudder.

"Divines!" Ziris exclaimed, dropping her sword and falling backwards onto her rump. She shook out her arm, which was buzzing, and she gaped at the metal spider, which, thankfully, had stopped moving when she struck it.

Trembling, Ziris crawled towards where her sword lay, and she gingerly picked it up, wary that it would shock her again. It didn't, thankfully, and she used it to haul herself to her feet, sliding it carefully back into its scabbard at her side.

As she did so, she heard a shriek come from the passageway behind her, and then an all too familiar shout.

 _Brynjolf_.

"What a shame." Ziris whipped around, and found Mercer standing three steps away, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He gave her a cool look as they listened to a Falmer screech, and Brynjolf's continued exclamations. "I have no interest in fighting Brynjolf, but I doubt you want to see him killed so easily."

"Why are you playing games with us?" Ziris demanded of him. "Isn't it enough that we're here, chasing you?"

"You're chasing me?" Mercer's mouth curved upwards in a smug smirk. "Are you sure it's not the other way around, little raven?"

"Don't call me that." Ziris reached for her dagger, and drew it from its sheath. Mercer followed immediately, pulling his sword free, and Ziris offered him a contemplative look. "Not here."

"You're right," Mercer agreed after a moment. "Not here." He slid his sword away again, and nodded in the direction of the noises. "Are you going to save him?"

Ziris tightened her grip around her dagger. "We're right behind you," she told him, turning and heading towards the sounds.

Mercer watched her go, smirking again, and then he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Ziris emerged from the corridor into a large cavern, and found Brynjolf holding off three Falmer, all brandishing sharp swords. He was doing fairly well, but he gave her a grateful look when she leapt lightly in next to him and stuck one of the elves with her dagger.

"How'd you do?" he asked her as he finished off the second.

"Oh, you know me," Ziris replied, sticking her sword through the last one. "I do just fine no matter what my circumstances are."

Brynjolf snorted, and Ziris was going to tell him about her encounter in the passageway when they heard Karliah grunt from somewhere nearby.

Together, they hurried towards the dark elf, and found her backed against a wall, with nothing but her bow to defend her.

Without hesitating, Ziris and Brynjolf jumped in. Ziris took down one with a quick slash of her blades, and Brynjolf attracted another's attention long enough for Karliah to pull out an arrow and send it into the Falmer's back.

It didn't take long after that for the three of them to kill off the rest of the elves that had converged in the area. When they were all dead, Ziris exhaled, glancing around as she slid her weapons away.

"So much for stealth," she said after a moment, glancing at Brynjolf.

"Suppose so," he returned, and then he looked around. "Where to?"

"Forward," Karliah replied, and she gestured towards a passageway that lay ahead of them.

"Right," Ziris stated, and she headed towards it with the others behind her.

They headed through more corridors, until they at last reached another large, cavernous room, where Ziris stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the giant thing looming over the group of Falmer that were roaming below.

"What… is that?" she finally managed.

"It's a Dwarven Centurion," Karliah replied. "Very tough, and very deadly."

"Aye," Brynjolf agreed, joining them, "which means we'll have to decide how we want to handle this." He looked at Ziris. "We can take it on, or we can sneak around it and head up those stairs." He nodded towards the ones in the distance. They seemed very far away. "It's your call, Ziris."

 _Of course it is_ , Ziris thought tiredly, and then she glanced around, determining the best way to get down off their ledge so that they could head for the stairs as quietly as possible.

"All right," she said at last, "we're going to jump off of here right over there." She nodded towards the edge of the ledge. "It's not a very far drop, and it'll be safer than going straight down into that mess." She indicated the Centurion and the Falmer.

"Whatever you say," Brynjolf agreed, and Ziris nodded gratefully to him before leading the way over to the edge of the ledge. Slowly, and quietly, she braced herself against the natural slope of the wall there, and slid down it to solid ground. When she'd made it without breaking anything, she let out a relieved breath, and looked up towards her companions.

"Exactly the same way I did it," she urged softly.

Karliah went first, slipping down the slope gracefully. She landed lightly next to where Ziris waited, and they both turned to watch Brynjolf.

He handled the slide with a bit less grace, but he did it as quietly as he could manage, and landed with a dull thud beside them.

"Good," Ziris whispered, and then she lowered herself into a crouch. "Come on."

The three of them kept to the corner of the room, stepping quietly over the small creeks of water that were running towards the stairs. Neither the Falmer or the Centurion reacted to them as they reached the stairs, and Ziris let out a relieved breath when they made it to the top without attracting any attention.

"Good job," Karliah praised, taking the lead again.

"Thanks," Ziris responded quietly, and Brynjolf offered her a quick look, his eyes filled with sympathy.

They all knew that the journey was almost over. Ziris debated going back to the mess of Falmer they'd left behind and starting a fight, just to hold it off a few minutes more.

She knew that it was pointless. The same outcome was going to emerge from this, no matter how long she stalled. No sense in waiting any longer than they needed to.

She reclaimed the lead as they neared the end of the passageway that they'd found themselves following for quite some time, and she pushed open the gate there. Another steep decline waited there for them, leading down to yet another large door.

"He's close," Karliah murmured from behind her as she hesitated before the door. "I'm certain of it. We must prepare ourselves."

Ziris paused and closed her eyes, inhaling. She'd been struggling to prepare herself the whole journey through Irkngthand. It wasn't getting any easier, now that she was fairly sure Mercer was just on the other side of the door.

Brynjolf exchanged a glance with Karliah, and then he took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. Ziris flinched away from him, and Brynjolf dropped his hand.

"I know how hard this is going to be for you," he murmured, "but… this is for the Guild. Mercer deserves whatever comes to him." He shook his head. "The Mercer we thought we knew is not the one waiting on the other side of that door."

"Maybe not," Ziris said softly, "but it's the only Mercer that's left." She exhaled, slowly, and shook her head to herself. "Let's just get this over with."

With that, she turned away from him and started towards the door. She paused again, hand resting on it, and she gazed down at the ground for a moment, steeling herself against the odd feelings that were stirring within her. She then pushed the door open, softly, and the three of them slid through it to the ledge on the other side.

Brynjolf closed the door gently behind him, and Ziris watched as Mercer, dangling from the giant Falmer statue on the opposite side of the room, succeeded in removing the glimmering Eye from it.

"He's here, and he hasn't seen us yet," Karliah whispered. "Brynjolf, watch the door."

"Aye. Nothing's getting by me," Brynjolf responded.

Mercer hopped down from the statue's face and picked up the Eye, tucking it away into the pack he wore on his shoulders. Karliah placed a gentle hand on Ziris's shoulder to gain her attention.

"Climb down that ledge, and see if you can -"

"So, you finally made it." Ziris's eyes turned back to Mercer as a dark ball of magic flew from his hand. The cavern shook, and Ziris struggled to steady herself as the part of the ledge she was standing on crumbled, and she dropped several feet, leaving Karliah and Brynjolf alone on the ledge above her.

She watched Mercer climb down the statue and come to a stop on the book the statue was holding, across a pool of water from her.

They gazed at one another for a moment, and then he spoke: "When I caught you stealing all those years ago, I felt a shift in the wind," he said stonily. "It wasn't a good feeling, and I knew that, at the end of it all, one of us would find our way to the end of the other's blade."

Ziris let out a breath. "Give me the Key, Mercer," she said, doing her best to keep her voice void of emotion. "The last thing I want to do is kill you. You must know that."

Mercer shook his head and crossed his arms. "Why are you asking for it? You know that Nocturnal doesn't care about you, the Key, or anything having to do with the Guild."

"And you know that this isn't about Nocturnal!" Ziris retorted hotly. "This is personal."

"Is that what you're here for, then? Revenge?" Mercer demanded. "I thought I taught you better than that." He spread out his hands. "When will you open your eyes and realize how little my actions differ from yours? Both of us lie, cheat, and steal to further our own end."

"The difference between us, Master Frey, is that I still have honor," Ziris informed him. "Not even you could rid me of that."

"And that is why I refused to tell you about this," Mercer concluded with a snort. "You would have never seen the Skeleton Key as I do… as an instrument of limitless wealth. Instead, you chose to fall over your own foolish code."

Ziris drew her dagger and sword. "If anyone falls…" She met Mercer's gaze. "... it will be you."

Mercer stared at her for a moment longer, and then his shoulders rose and fell. "Then the die is cast, and once again my blade will taste Nightingale blood," he finished, and then his hand flashed with magic again. This time, he shot it directly at Brynjolf, who let out a shout of pain, and then drew his weapons. Ziris watched in horror as he started after Karliah, who struggled to fight him off with her bow.

"What… what's happening?" Brynjolf exclaimed. "I can't stop myself!"

"Fight it, Brynjolf!" Karliah urged, dropping her bow in favor of pulling out her dagger. "He's taken control of you."

"I'm sorry… I can't," Brynjolf answered, slashing at her.

"Damn you, Mercer!" Karliah shouted.

Ziris turned away from them and peered around the cavern. Mercer was nowhere to be seen.

 _He's using the shadows. Damn._

"Come along, little raven," he called from nowhere. "Make good of your promise!"

He suddenly appeared directly in front of her, blades flashing as he swung at her. Ziris quickly raised her own weapons and metal clanged as they hit.

"You forget that you trained me to be just as good as you," Ziris growled, pushing forward and thrusting Mercer's blades downwards and away so that she could dart back a few paces.

"Then, if you actually learned anything, this should be an interesting fight," Mercer snarled in response, and rushed towards her.

The fight went on. More than once, the two thieves came together amidst their deadly dance, blades crossed and pressed against the other's two, and their eyes would meet, stormy gray against sea green. It would only remain that way for a moment, but in that moment, something was exchanged between the two of them, a silent plea from one, and an angry refusal from the other. Ziris saw no change in the man she called her mentor's eyes, and it disgusted her.

Who was this person she was fighting? Surely not the cloaked figure that had found a young, starving girl on the streets of Riften and taken her in. No, that had been someone completely different. She longed for that person to emerge from whatever dark recess Mercer had shoved him into, but he only seemed to be retreating further and further with each swing of Mercer's blades.

She managed to get Mercer across his arm, her sword's blade slicing easily through the leather armor covering it. Mercer grunted and quickly tried to cut at her with a backhanded swing. Ziris recognized this counter-attack and darted to the side to avoid it.

"Clever," Mercer growled, chasing after her up the side of the statue. "You have a good memory."

"I needed to remember, especially once we started using real blades!" Ziris retorted, ducking as he swung at her again.

"You were good enough by that point that I didn't have to worry about hurting you," Mercer responded.

"Like you worried anyhow."

He paused, their daggers holding the other's at bay, and frowned at her. "I worried," he said lowly. "You were my responsibility, and you were the best thief in the Guild at that point."

Ziris shook her head and pushed him backwards long enough to allow her to get some distance between them. Mercer watched her go, and then he disappeared into the shadows again. Ziris exhaled and pressed herself against the statue so that he wouldn't be able to catch her from behind.

 _"He'd gut you as soon as look at you,"_ the shadows whispered.

 _Oh, yes_ , Ziris thought sourly. _Very helpful_.

"Good," Mercer commented from wherever he was. "Making sure your enemy can only attack from a place you can see."

"One of the first lessons you taught me," Ziris responded, glancing around the space in front of her.

"One of the most important lessons," Mercer said, appearing again and taking a swing at her. Ziris stopped his blade with her own and pushed it downwards. The two of them leaned forward from the force of this, and met gazes. "If there's nothing else you can do, at least you can do that."

Ziris turned them so that Mercer was the one with his back to the statue, and she pushed him into it. He hit it with a grunt, and she exhaled.

"Getting slow," she said.

"Not slow enough," Mercer answered, rolling his shoulders and coming at her again.

Their fight continued as Karliah fended off Brynjolf above them. Mercer's blades continually missed Ziris by margins, but she managed to hit him twice more, once on the other arm, and again along his side.

He came to a halt near the foot of the statue on the right side of the cavern from the way Ziris had entered, holding his side and breathing heavily. She paused a few steps away from him, watching him carefully to see if he was going to pull another trick out of his sleeve.

Instead of doing something like that, however, he brushed back a strand of hair that was dangling in his eyes and looked at her. And, surprisingly, he let out a laugh.

"I'm proud of you," he said through his labored breathing. "You took everything I taught you to heart."

"Mercer… I really, really don't want to kill you," Ziris whispered, and he huffed, straightening up a bit. His dwarven sword, possibly the one she had stolen for him, had dropped from his hand and was lying on the stone beneath his feet. His dagger he still held in the hand not pressed to his side, but he dropped it after a moment.

"This is where we've been led," he told her. "The Guild's spoken, I imagine."

"They have, but… you don't necessarily have to come back to the Guild. You can…"

"Run? Without the Eyes or the Skeleton Key?" Mercer shook his head wearily. "I'd be dead in a week."

"No!" Ziris exclaimed. "You're better than that. You don't need the Key, and you don't need the Eyes. You're a _thief_ , Mercer."

"Any skills I had before the Key and before I became a Nightingale are worthless," Mercer said. "I'm sorry, little raven, but… this is where we stand." Ziris shook her head in desperation as he lowered his hand from his side and held out his arms. "Do it."

"I can't." She shook her head again and used a wrist to wipe at her eyes just as tears started to spill over. "Mercer, _please_."

"If I'm going to be killed… I want it to be by you," Mercer said, his voice low. "Consider it your last order."

Ziris exhaled shakily and lowered her arm, allowing the tears to flow freely, because there was no stopping them. She gazed at her mentor for a long moment, and then she tossed her sword to the side and picked up his instead. Mercer nodded in agreement when she glanced at him.

"Good," he said quietly. "That's… that's good."

"I'm sorry it had to be like this," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. Mercer merely gazed at her, and she let out a breath. "Where?"

"Right here," he suggested, gesturing to the same spot he'd stabbed her. "It'll go through the armor easily enough, and it'll be quicker that way."

Ziris forced a nod, and she took a pace forward. She inhaled a shaky breath and closed her eyes. She then quickly wrapped one arm around his neck and drove the sword into his chest at the same time, before she could change her mind.

Mercer let out a quiet gasp, and Ziris withdrew the sword from his chest and lowered him to the ground before letting out a sob. Quickly, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, and then reached out to close his.

She didn't even notice that the entire cavern was shaking, or that floods of water were beginning to pour into it, quickly making the water level rise. She faintly heard Karliah exclaim something, and Brynjolf's response brought her back to the present in time enough to realize that she needed to get the Key and the Eyes off of Mercer.

She carefully pulled his pack off of his shoulders, and then reached into the pouch on his belt that she knew he kept his lockpicks in. The Skeleton Key wasn't a lockpick at all, but a literal key, and Ziris stared at it for a moment. This was the thing that had caused all this? She couldn't believe it.

Shaking her head in disgust, she slid the Key into the bag with the Eyes and swung it over her shoulder. She grabbed hers, and then the dwarven sword, and offered Mercer one last glance before she quickly scaled the Falmer statue, Karliah and Brynjolf right behind her.

"What do we do?" she asked the Dunmer, who glanced around desperately, her eyes finally settling on the rising water level. She then glanced at Ziris.

"Pray."

The water rose up past the top of the statue, and Ziris spluttered as she desperately swam through it, trying to find something steady to stand on. All at once, the rocks at the very top of the cavern crumbled, opening up a hole that had been hidden behind them.

Ziris immediately clambered for it, and she hurried down the passage until she was safely away from the rising water level. She then stopped, a hand against the wall, and coughed up so much water she could have filled a pond.

Karliah and Brynjolf came up behind her a moment later, both coughing and soaking wet. There was silence as they all got their bearings, and then Ziris glanced at Karliah, who shook her head.

"I can't believe it's over," she whispered. "Twenty five years in exile, and just like that, it's done." She let out a breath and straightened up. "All that remains is to ensure the safe return of the Skeleton Key."

"Then take it," Ziris said coldly, tossing the pack down at her feet. "I'm done with all this. It should be a simple enough task, right?"

Karliah exhaled. "I'm afraid it's not. When the Skeleton Key was stolen from the Twilight Sepulcher, our access to the inner sanctum was removed. The only way to bring it back will be through the Pilgrim's Path."

"What in the Gods' names is the Pilgrim's Path?" Ziris demanded.

"It was created to test those that wished to serve Nocturnal in ways that the Nightingales didn't," Karliah explained. "It wasn't created for Nightingales, and, as a consequence, I have no idea what's in there."

"Well, I guess you'll be finding out, won't you?" Ziris asked her, and then she started to walk away from them.

"Ziris." Brynjolf spoke for the first time, and she stopped, but didn't turn around. She heard Brynjolf approach her, and then his hand was on his shoulder. She stiffened beneath it, but did not move away. "I know that… that was hard for you," he murmured, "but this whole business was hard for Karliah. She doesn't want to have to be the one to return the thing she was supposed to keep safe."

"And you think that I do?" Ziris retorted, whipping around to face him. "I didn't even want to become a Nightingale. I didn't want to have to be the one to kill Mercer. I don't want any more to do with this, Brynjolf!"

"I know," Brynjolf said softly. "And I understand. But… this is your duty. As Guild Master… and as a Nightingale."

"I didn't ask for _either_ of those titles," Ziris growled. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"Ziris, please," Brynjolf said. "Just this. For the Guild."

Ziris stared at him for a long moment without blinking, aware of the fresh bout of tears building up behind her eyes. Then, without speaking, she turned and snatched the pack from the ground, swinging it over her shoulder.

"Where am I going?" she muttered, directing the question to Karliah.

"A cave built into the side of the mountain in western Skyrim," the dark elf murmured. "Ziris, I -"

"Don't," Ziris mumbled, turning away from her. "I don't want to hear it."

* * *

 **So, yeah. Ziris was the one to do the deed, which is poetic, in a sense. Obviously, she's not too happy about it.**

 **We'll have to see what that does to her in the future.**


	18. A Daedra's Words

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **I guess the correct thing to say is that the epilogue will be the shortest chapter.**

 **Although, it's not even really a chapter, so maybe I don't need to say anything at all.**

 **Whatever. Here's the real last chapter, I guess.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Nina: Yeah, he's dead. I hope everyone's happy.**

 **Guest: Thank you, friend. It was fun to write all that. The fight with Mercer was actually one of the first parts of the Fiction I ever wrote, and then all the stuff that came before it was added in later. It definitely took a lot of tweaking to make it fit in with the actual story line once I had it all written down. I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

 **Manu: Thanks. I thought everyone would enjoy the little bits of Ziris and Brynjolf that I threw in there, in order to alleviate the severity of the rest of the chapter. I'm happy that you liked it!**

* * *

 **Chapter 18: A Daedra's Words**

* * *

The trek across Skyrim took her three days, but only because she didn't bother rushing. Why would she?

When she finally reached the place Karliah had told her about, she frowned at it, having expect something bigger, more grand scale. Instead, it was just a door built into the side of the mountain, across a small stream from her. A waterfall filled the stream, rumbling quietly from its point on the mountain.

Ziris sighed to herself and hopped over the stream, then ducked through the door.

As soon as she passed through the short passage on the other side, she found what she had been expecting waiting for her. A large cavern opened up beyond the passage, complete with a long set of stairs, and a temple at the top of it.

Standing on the stairs was a ghostly figure, and Ziris cautiously approached it, not sure what she was expecting.

Instead of finding an enemy, however, the ghost seemed to be wearing the Nightingale armor. It glanced her over for a moment, and then spoke: "I don't recognize you, but I sense that you are one of us. Who are you?"

"I'd ask the same of you," Ziris answered, adjusting the pack's position on her shoulder.

The ghost sighed. "The last of the Nightingale Sentinels, I'm afraid," he said. "I've defended the Sepulcher alone for what seems like an eternity."

"The last?" Ziris frowned at him. "What happened to the rest?"

"We were betrayed by one of our own," the ghost explained. "In fact… I'm to blame for what's happened here."

Ziris stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes widened. "Wait a minute… Gallus?"

The ghost's head raised, and he looked at her. "I… I have not heard that name for a long time," he said softly. "How… how do you know of me?"

Ziris let out a breath. "I have the Skeleton Key that Mercer took."

"You have the Key?" Gallus sounded disbelieving. "And… and Mercer?"

Ziris stiffened a bit, and lowered her gaze to the ground. "Dead."

"Then… it's over," Gallus said quietly, "and my death wasn't in vain." He tilted his head as he studied her. "You, though. You're not happy?"

"After… after he killed you and forced Karliah to run, Mercer found me on the streets of Riften and took me in," Ziris explained quietly. "I uh… he taught me everything I know about being a thief, and… I had to kill him." She let out a weak chuckle. "I haven't had the best week."

Gallus was silent for a moment. "I would apologize, but…"

"I understand," Ziris replied, sniffling. "You wouldn't be willing to take care of this, would you?"

"I'm afraid it's impossible," Gallus answered. "Since I arrived here, I've felt myself… well, dying."

"How can a spirit die?" Ziris asked, frowning.

"The Sepulcher isn't merely a temple or a vault to house the Key. Within these walls is the Ebonmere... a conduit to Nocturnal's realm of Evergloam. When Mercer stole the Key, that conduit closed, severely limiting our ties to her."

Ziris exhaled. "Then I'm on my own, huh?"

"I'm afraid so," Gallus responded. "The years without restoration of my power have taken their toll. Whatever damage has been caused can only be corrected by following the Pilgrim's Path to the Ebonmere and replacing the Key."

"All right," Ziris sighed. "Then I guess that's what I'm doing."

"Good luck, Nightingale," Gallus said as she started up the stairs past him. "Be wary; I do not know what awaits you."

 _That gives me so much hope_ , Ziris thought to herself. She proceeded into the cave at the top of the stairs, drawing her blades as she did so. No sense in taking chances.

At the end of the cave's passage lay an iron door, which she pushed open. Immediately, she found herself facing another ghost, this one not so friendly as Gallus had been. One of the Sentinels that had been affected by the Ebonmere closing, she supposed.

She was forced to fight the ghost, and she did so until it was dead, which… she still didn't understand how that worked. All the same, she killed it, and then killed the one that appeared as soon as the first was dead, before proceeding on through another iron door.

This one led down another passage that opened up into a room with stairs, sort of like a burial chamber. Another dead Sentinel waited for her here, and she dispatched it as quickly as she could. She caught one of its ghost-arrows on her shoulder, but she barely felt it.

She continued on to the door that waited for her, and pushed it open. The door opened into a large, cavernous room that was shrouded in darkness aside from a few areas where torches were lighted and shed some glow on their surroundings. Because she couldn't see, she started for one of the lit up areas, and immediately regretted it when she felt something similar to a burning sensation all over her body.

She cursed and leapt back out of the light, glaring at it. The shadows that surrounded her cooled off her burning body, and she exhaled, realizing what this room wanted her to do.

"Fine," she muttered, sliding her weapons away. "I'll stick to the shadows."

She mounted a set of stairs and crossed a bridge, avoiding the light as much as possible, and a few traps as well. The entire room was dangerous, and she hated it. When she finally made it to the other side and climbed the stairs there up to the door, she was relieved when she found another burial chamber type area waiting for her.

She followed the passage around a few corners to another room, where she found a statue of Nocturnal standing in front of a very obvious hidden door.

"What do you want?" she asked the Daedra statue, and then she glanced around for a moment. A glimmer of steel caught her eye from where it lay behind one of the sconces on the wall, and she approached it, finding a chain hidden behind it.

She rolled her eyes and pulled it. Immediately, the flames in the sconce went out.

"Ah… darkness," Ziris said. "I get it."

She crossed the room to the other sconce and pulled the chain hidden there as well. The flames disappeared, and the hidden door opened up.

"Very creative," she mumbled, passing through the door.

As soon as she did, se heard the sounds of at least three traps go off, and she let out a sigh before continuing on her way. She avoided a set of poisoned arrows and a giant battering ram on her way down a passage, and then she found herself in another open room, where two more Sentinels waited to kill her.

Ziris quickly killed them instead, and then crossed the room to get to the passage that would help her progress forward. Once she was through, she found another door waiting for her, and she exhaled, feeling as though this was the last one she would be passing through.

When she opened it and entered the room on the other side, she saw she was right. A long hallway lay before her, shrouded in an odd purple mist that didn't seem to harm her. At the end of the hall, two large wooden doors waited for her, and she pushed them open and crossed through.

She followed another short passage until she reached a dark pit in the floor. Nothing lay beyond it, and there was no turning back. Ziris gazed down into the pit for a moment, frowning when she saw the skeleton at the bottom. For some reason, however, she felt that jumping into the pit was the thing she needed to do.

So, she did it, and landed hard on the bottom. She was pretty certain she heard a crack in one of her legs, and she let out a sharp exhale as she struggled to stand up. She couldn't however, and she closed her eyes against the pain, holding her leg tightly.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she managed through clenched teeth. She pulled Mercer's pack off of her shoulders and shuffled through it, pulling out the Skeleton Key after a moment. She stared at it, wondering if she was supposed to shove it into the floor or something.

Before she could, however, the floor disappeared, as did the pain in her leg. She dropped into a room beneath, and found herself standing before an odd circle in the floor that had a hole in the center of it. It looked as though it would hold the Skeleton Key.

Shrugging, Ziris put the Key into the hole and stepped back. Immediately, the circle rose from the floor, opening up in three different places. A horde of birds flew out of the purple pool that formed in the center of the circle, and out of the cloud of birds came a woman, who floated above the pool with her arms held out, a hood drawn up over her head. Two birds perched on her arms, and Ziris realized that she was looking at the living version of the statue of Nocturnal.

"My, my," the Daedra started, staring down at Ziris. "What do we have here?" She tilted her head. "It's been a number of years since I've set foot on your world. Or perhaps it's been moments. One tends to lose track." She seemed to change her mind about what she wanted to speak of, then, because her head righted itself, and she met Ziris's gaze. "So… once again the Key has been stolen, and a 'champion' returns it to the Sepulcher. Now that the Ebonmere has been restored, you stand before me awaiting your accolades; a pat on your head… a kiss on your cheek."

"Not really," Ziris mumbled.

"Say that again?" Nocturnal asked, and Ziris glanced up at her.

"I don't want any 'accolades'," she said. "I didn't want to be the one to do this. I lost my mentor in order to retrieve the Key, and I sort of just… want to go home."

"Ah… Mercer Frey was your _mentor_." Nocturnal chuckled. "No wonder you reflected him when I first came across you during Karliah's summoning." She frowned a bit. "Still… it does not sound like him, to take on a protege."

"I know," Ziris agreed, turning her gaze downwards again, "but you'd be surprised."

Nocturnal was silent for a moment as she gazed down at Ziris, who studied the ground. The Daedra seemed to be considering something. Finally, when she spoke again, it was not something Ziris had expected to hear: "You killed him. Why?"

"He asked me too," Ziris answered truthfully. "And… it's because it was what the Guild decided."

"I see. So all of this was for the Guild?" Nocturnal queried. Ziris nodded, and then shrugged, and Nocturnal let out a hum. "Interesting."

"How so, if you don't mind my asking."

The Daedra shook her head.

"It just surprises me that the thief who was mentored by the Guild Master that stole from the Guild, killed her mentor because it was what the Guild wanted, and returned the Skeleton Key to the Sepulcher because it was what was best for the Guild." Nocturnal smiled. "You hold more loyalty to the Guild than Mercer ever did, and that is interesting, considering he was the one to mentor you."

"The Guild's been my home for the last twenty five years," Ziris explained. "Mercer may have been the one to teach me, but… without the Guild… there wouldn't have been any reason to teach me. I owe him a lot, but… I suppose I owe the Guild more."

"Well, whatever your reasoning, you fulfilled your agreement as a Nightingale," Nocturnal said. "You've obediently performed your duties to the letter. And… perhaps, for the first time in a long time, I am faced with a thief who cares more about serving faithfully than about the prize that awaits them at the end of their journey."

Ziris smiled a bit and nodded. "I suppose so," she said. "I was never worried about making money or stealing something extremely valuable. I just… I wanted to get the job done properly, so that the Guild would have something to be proud of."

"And, of course, they are very proud, although they may not say it out loud," Nocturnal informed her. "Thieves are finicky creatures, after all. They are not the best at expressing their gratitude or their love. When they do, however…"

She trailed off, and gestured to the pool below her feet. "Here, you see the Ebonmere. I would ask that you drink deeply from it, mortal. This is where the Agent of Nocturnal is born, and I would be proud to call a thief as loyal as you one of my own." She disappeared back into the pool, her voice echoing around the room as she did so. "Farewell, Nightingale. See to it the Key stays this time, won't you?"

Ziris smiled to herself and let out a breath before glancing around the room. She wasn't surprised to find Karliah standing off to the side, watching her.

"You came," she said to the Dunmer.

"I'm glad you were able to bring the Key back safely," Karliah responded. "Nocturnal seemed quite pleased with your efforts."

Ziris shrugged. "She sort of sounded indifferent to me."

"I wouldn't take that to heart. It's her way," Karliah explained. "She's like a scolding mother; continually pushing you harder to be successful. She outwardly sounds angry, but is silently content. Although… she seemed more than content with you, Ziris. She seemed proud, as though you were already the best you could be."

Ziris shook her head. "I'll be lucky if that's ever true." She studied the elf as she pulled her hood down and lowered her mask. "What will you do now?"

"The Guild has welcomed me back with open arms," Karliah answered, smiling softly. "I feel like a void in my life has finally been filled." She then shook her head. "But I cannot rejoin them."

Ziris was going to ask why, and then she stopped herself. She already understood. "And this… Agent of Nocturnal business?"

"These circles." Karliah gestured to the one closest to her. It had a emblem in the shape of a crescent moon on it. "They imbue you with powers befitting a Nightingale Agent. The crescent moon represents the Agent of Shadow, the half moon the Agent of Subterfuge, and the full moon the Agent of Strife."

"And… I can't be all three?" Ziris asked, half-joking, and Karliah smiled again.

"Unfortunately not, but that is Nocturnal's way of maintaining balance."

Ziris nodded in understanding and glanced around at the circle. "And… once I choose?"

"Then your life as an Agent of Nocturnal will begin," Karliah answered. "If the need arises, you will be summoned the the Sepulcher to defend it, as is your duty."

Ziris exhaled. "Which Agent was Mercer?" she asked, quietly.

Karliah silently gestured to the crescent moon again, and Ziris nodded. "All right." She stepped onto the circle and an odd feeling washed over her. She glanced down at her hand, and blinked when a flash of darkness appeared across her palm. "Shadows."

"Karliah?" She glanced up and saw Gallus standing before one of the purple portals against the wall, gazing at the Dunmer, who stared back in disbelief.

"Gallus?" The ghost approached her, and Karliah shook her head. "I feared I would never see you again. I was afraid you'd become like the others."

"If it were not for the actions of this Nightingale, your fears would have come true," Gallus answered, looking at Ziris. "She honors us all." Ziris dipped her head in response, and he turned back to Karliah.

"What will you do now, my love?" Karliah asked him.

"Nocturnal calls me to the Evergloam. My contract has been fulfilled," Gallus responded.

"Will I ever see you again?" Karliah queried, and Gallus reached out a hand towards her.

"When your debt to Nocturnal has been paid, we'll embrace once again," he assured.

Karliah let out a breath. "Farewell, Gallus. Eyes open…" She swallowed. "Walk with the shadows."

"Goodbye, Karliah," Gallus replied, and then he faded away.

Ziris gazed at where he had been for a moment, and then she looked at Karliah. "Where did he go?"

"Gallus's Oath has been paid. His actions satisfied the terms," Karliah explained. "Now his spirit becomes one with the Evergloam… the realm of perpetual twilight and the cradle of shadow."

"So… he's gone?"

"No, not gone," Karliah said. "He's become one with the shadows. This is the greatest honor a Nightingale can possibly achieve. In death, he's become a part of that which we use to live."

Ziris gazed at her for a moment, processing this, and then her eyes widened. "All the dead Nightingales are a part of the shadows?"

"Absolutely. When we say "walk with the shadows", we are asking those Nightingales who have passed on to protect us. It's believed that they are literally what guides our uncanny luck… by placing their hands in ours," Karliah said. "That's why the Ebonmere needed to be reopened. Without it, there's no way Nocturnal was able to allow them through."

Ziris wouldn't say outloud what she was wondering, but she was fairly certain that Karliah could read it on her face. Thankfully, the Dunmer did not comment.

"Where will you be?" Ziris asked her.

"I'm going to make my home in Nightingale Hall," Karliah answered. "It is your home as well, so I hope to see you and Brynjolf there now and again." She smiled. "I may visit Skyrim's cities to 'acquire' things from time to time. Can't afford to get rusty, can we?"

"I suppose not," Ziris agreed. She glanced towards the portal. "That'll take me out of here?"

"It will."

Ziris nodded and headed towards it. She glanced over her shoulder once to look at Karliah. "I'm glad we were able to fix everything for you," she said, and Karliah dipped her head.

"Thank you for helping. I know that it was difficult for you, but it was the right thing."

Ziris didn't offer a response to this, and she stepped through the portal without another word. It deposited her at the bottom of the steps in the main hall of the Sepulcher, and she glanced around it for a moment before setting her shoulders and exhaling. It was time to go home.

* * *

 **The bad news is that this may be the worst written chapter out of the entire Fiction.**

 **The good news is that it is the last one, and that means the Fiction is over, aside from the epilogue, which I will post probably Sunday of this week, since I want to get it over with.**

 **I'll see you then, and then we'll have a chat about the future of Ziris and all the other Skyrim characters, both actual characters and OCs, that you've come to love.**


	19. Shadows

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim**

* * *

 **And here it is. It's a lot longer than I thought it was, so that's a pleasant surprise for you guys.**

 **Enjoy. Pick it apart. Figure out the secrets that I hid within it. There's a few, several foreshadowing things that will happen in the future.**

 ***evil laughter***

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses (the last one!):**

 **Nina: Yeah, Ziris was pretty destroyed over what she had to do. No doubt it'll keep weighing heavily on her shoulders, and maybe even... change her? Who knows.  
Good news, though, the epilogue is longer than I'd originally, though, but it's only about 2,400 words, so. Enjoy it all the same. Thank you for sticking with me throughout this. **

**Manu: Here is the more you asked for, and the last of it. I hope you enjoy the epilogue, just as much as you seemed to enjoy the rest of the story. Hopefully I see you in the next one.**

* * *

 **Epilogue: Shadows**

* * *

Ziris watched the other thieves move around the cistern, going about their business. Sapphire was biting out a sharp rebuke to yet another one of Vipir's advancements. Clearly, not everyone knew that she and Rune were an item, not yet at any rate. Cynric and Niruin were going over plans for a job that Delvin was sending them on together. Brynjolf was stationed behind the Guild Master's desk, looking over a few things in a journal sitting in front of him.

Everything seemed to be exactly the way it had been before all the mess had begun, but Ziris knew that nothing would ever be the same again, even as the Guild was flooded with the income of all the luck that they had lost returning.

Already, there was an apparent shift in the amount of goods and wealth that adorned the cistern, and the Flagon. The thieves had all been awarded with more comfortable beds, and the shelves around the edges of the room were filled with delicious food and glittering prizes.

The one thing that had changed the cistern most, however, was the statue of Nocturnal that rested on one side of the room, looking over all the thieves, and everything that they were doing. Ziris didn't know if she was comfortable with the obvious worship the Guild was now giving to the Lady of Darkness, but she supposed that, as long as no one started preaching, she would be able to deal with it.

Thrynn, who was busy showing around the Guild's newest addition, a Nord named Garthar, finished up with his task, and then headed over to where Ziris was sitting at the table in the kitchen. He sat down across from her, and grinned.

"It's weird, how little's changed, but how everything has," he said, and Ziris nodded in agreement.

"No one is outwardly addressing it, that's why."

"Yeah, but we all appreciate it," Thrynn told her.

No one had been told about the Skeleton Key, but they all knew that Ziris had had a hand in the sudden influx of luck that the Guild had been blessed with. That was what Delvin told her, anyhow. Ziris didn't know if she believed it, but Thrynn was grateful enough for everyone else.

"I suppose so," she said, and then she slid her still partially full bottle of ale towards him. "Here, finish that off for me," she invited, standing. "I'm going to go take a walk up top."

"You don't want me to come with you?" Thrynn asked, watching her, and Ziris shook her head.

"I won't be gone long."

She left him at the table, and headed for the ladder. She climbed up it, and ducked out of the secret entrance, heading for nowhere in particular.

She paused in front of the statue of Talos, hidden in the grove behind the Temple of Mara. She sighed to herself, and slid down against the wall beside it, settling down in the grass. Idly, she picked a strand and curled it around her pinkie, then untwisted it, and watched it curl back up.

It had been a month since she'd returned from the Twilight Sepulcher, and she'd settled back into her routine without much stumble. She went back to helping Delvin regain the Guild's footing in the remaining holds, and the jobs went a lot smoother than they had prior to the events that had occurred.

Ziris missed Mercer more than she would admit to anyone. She'd hoped that the special jobs would distract her, but they didn't, not nearly as much as she thought they would.

She'd even gone so far as to look for him, in the shadows. She had yet to find him in any of them, however, and she was ready to stop looking all together.

She glanced at the shadow that the statue of Talos was creating against the ground, and considered reaching her hand into it, just to see.

Before she could make up her mind, she heard movement come from the direction of the hidden entrance, and she glanced up in time to see Brynjolf approaching, his hood pushed down. He smiled at her, and she forced herself to return it as he sat down on the grass next to her.

"I haven't really gotten to speak with you, since you got back," Brynjolf commented after they'd sat in silence for some time. "How're you doing?"

"I mean… as good as can be expected," Ziris replied absently, pulling up another blade of grass. "I keep thinking I'll see him behind the desk when I walk into the cistern." She shook her head. "I guess I need to just get over it."

"I know it's going to take some time," Brynjolf said. "Don't feel like you have to pretend that you're all right. Everyone knows how it affected you, and they understand."

"They aren't worried?" Ziris asked, glancing at him, and he shook his head.

"They are all more focused on the fact that the Guild is reaching that high point again," he said with a small smile, "and they all know you have quite a bit to do with it."

Ziris sighed, and leaned her head back against the wall. "I miss him," she admitted quietly.

"I don't blame you," Brynjolf returned. "He made an impact on your life, no matter what else he did." He reached out, and slid his hand into hers. Ziris let him. "I'm sorry it had to end the way it did."

"Me too," Ziris murmured, glancing sideways at him. "Thank you, Brynjolf."

"For what?"

"I don't know," she said, "but…" She trailed off, and managed a grin. "I'm sorry I was… the worst to you, these last few months. You didn't deserve it."

Brynjolf chuckled. He lifted her hand, and placed a kiss on the back of it. "Don't worry about it," he said. "It doesn't matter now. Besides." He grinned at her. "We're going to have to learn how to work together."

"I don't think that'll be too hard," Ziris replied after a moment.

"Me either," Brynjolf agreed, and then he leaned forward a bit, and kissed her, softly.

Ziris didn't mind it in the slightest, and she kissed him back.

When he pulled away, they met eyes, and Ziris laughed.

"What?" Brynjolf queried, grinning, and she shook her head.

"Are we going to actually get any work done, if we're distracted by things like that?"

Brynjolf's grin grew. "We'll figure it out."

Ziris nodded in agreement, and he kissed her again, before he stood up, still holding her hand.

"Come back down," he suggested, and she shook her head.

"In a few more minutes."

Brynjolf offered her a nod, and then he let her hand go, and turned to go back to the cistern.

Ziris watched him walk away, and then she looked at the shadow again.

Without thinking about it, she slid her hand into it, winced as the coldness went up her arm, and then her vision went black.

"Always taking a risk, aren't you, little raven?"

She opened her eyes and found herself standing in Riftweald Manor, down in the hidden room in the basement. Mercer Frey leaned back against the desk there, his arms crossed over his chest, and a scowl on his face.

"You might freeze to death, with no one watching you to make sure you aren't in the shadow for too long," he grumbled.

"I can't believe you're actually here," Ziris said, ignoring his tone and the expression on his face. "Karliah said that the dead Nightingales become shadows, but…" She stopped, and shook her head at him. "I've missed you."

Mercer rolled his eyes. "For what purpose?" he asked. "No use in missing dead people; they can't come back." He moved away from the desk, dropping his arms. "You haven't been named Guild Master in front of everyone, yet. Why not?"

"I asked everyone to wait," she replied. "I didn't want to take on all that responsibility so soon." She tilted her head. "I still think Brynjolf should be Guild Master, don't you?"

"No," Mercer said immediately. "He's no leader, and has never wanted to be." He seemed resigned when he said this next part: "You were always the one for the job."

Ziris smiled. "That's all I ever wanted to hear from you," she told him, and Mercer glanced up at her.

"Was it really?"

Ziris hesitated, and then she shook her head. "No, I guess not," she replied, and then she glanced around. "Why can I talk to you in this vision, when I couldn't even interact with anything in the others?"

"This isn't a memory, for one thing," Mercer responded. "That makes a big difference. And…" He shrugged. "I guess the shadows felt like letting you."

"How nice of them," Ziris said.

"Indeed," Mercer agreed tersely.

Ziris had to smile. She really had missed him. "Do you regret any of it?"

Mercer was silent for a moment, merely staring at her. "No," he said at last. "I don't."

Ziris looked down.

"That bothers you, doesn't it?" Mercer questioned.

"A little," Ziris allowed, fiddling with a loose buckle on one of her belt pouches. "I guess I would like to hear that you regretted trying to kill me, at least."

"I would say that I do," Mercer began, "but if I hadn't, then things might be a lot different, and I would've been dead a lot sooner."

"I guess that's fair," Ziris responded after a second, glancing up at him.

Mercer gave her something that could've been a smile. "See, that's what I've always liked about you, little raven," he said. "You understand."

Ziris laughed. "I always did my best," she told him. "Will you stick around the Guild, or hop into whatever shadow pleases you?"

"Oh, I'll probably stay long enough to watch you take my title, and then…" He shrugged. "I'll go wherever I want."

Ziris dipped her head in acceptance, and Mercer glanced at her. "I'll always stop in, to check on things, you know. Keep that in mind."

"I will," she replied, and then she took a cautious step forward. Without thinking about it, she reached out, and was surprised when her hand actually touched his arm. Mercer glanced down at her hand, and then he looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked her.

"The one thing I didn't dare do when you were alive," she answered, and then she grabbed him in a hug before he could resist.

Mercer went stiff, but she persisted, hugging him tightly, and hiding her face in his shoulder. She wanted him to hug her back, and she wasn't letting go until he did.

"You should leave," he advised, not moving. "You're probably starting to freeze." Ziris didn't reply, and Mercer exhaled a patient breath. "It's best if you go now."

Still, she hugged him, and Mercer grunted a bit, and then his shoulders relaxed, and he put his own arms around her.

Ziris smiled against his shoulder. "Thank you," she said quietly, "for everything you taught me, and for bringing me to my home."

"Yeah, sure, sure," Mercer grumbled, patting her on the back. "You really should get out of here."

"You're probably right," Ziris agreed, and she finally let him go, stepping back. Mercer looked uncomfortable, and it pleased her to no end. "I'll see you again, soon," she told him.

"Sure," Mercer said again, under his breath. "Don't forget any of the things I taught you. They'll keep you out of a cell, if nothing else."

Ziris grinned, and nodded. "Right. Walk with the shadows, Mercer."

He rolled his eyes. "And _don't_ say things like that."

Ziris laughed, and turned, leaving him behind as she stepped out of the room, and out of the vision.

She returned to the real world, and sat up, shivering a bit, but smiling to herself. She climbed to her feet, and headed for the secret entrance, feeling better than she had for a long time.

 _Things are going to be good from now on_ , she decided, pressing the button on the coffin.

She glanced over her shoulder, and looked at a shadow that was being cast by a nearby tree, and her smile grew.

 _Thank Nocturnal we have our luck back._

* * *

 **All right! Now that that's over, let's get to the chat about where these Skyrim universe of mine is going.**

 **I'm currently writing what will probably be the last installment involving all of my OCs, which I don't expect to have done for quite a while because college, y'know. It'll be worth the wait, though, I promise. We're gonna talk about the King's Moot, we're gonna talk about a royal wedding, we're gonna talk about betrayal and attempted murder and actual murder, and not even murder committed by the assassins!**

 **It's gonna be fuckin' fun, you guys. I can't wait.**

 **And then, after that, I _might_ write one final thing, pertaining to Cry and Farkas, because I never really got to write about their companionship, and I know that it's mostly because it didn't really fit in to the grand scheme of things, but this finally story will be just about them, because I love them. I love Farkas.**

 **Hell, I love all of these stinkin' characters, including my own. I'm definitely going to miss them once I can't write about them anymore.**

 **Ah, well. It'll be the end of an era, I suppose.**

 **Ah? Ah? Anyone get it? Chapter 17's title? Anyone?**

 **Oh boy. I'm gonna head out, folks. I'll see you next time. If you have any questions about anything, please don't be afraid to PM me, or leave a review on either this story, or any other story, but please, if you do that, make sure I can respond to you, because that's the whole point of asking a question, right? Getting a response?**

 **I'll catch you guys on the flip side.**

 **Later.**


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